Guyver Evolution
by Warriorsong
Summary: REVERSIONED. Alternate telling of Sean Barker's story set somewhere in line with the original anime/manga. This story has been around the block before but has been dusted and polished to its gleaming finish. Contains violence and offensive language
1. Chapter 1

EVOLUTION

**Evolution**

R E V E R S I O N E D

A Guyver Bio-Booster Armour Fan Fiction

By Nicholas Paul Clark (Warriorsong)

--

_Life…_

_An Infinite Energy_

--

"At the dawn of Creation, The Gods arrived on Earth,

Now, we shall know their awful legacy and how it affects Mankind."

--

Chapter One

Arrival

--

"Oh, oh people of the earth

Listen to the warning

The seer he said

Beware the storm that gathers here

Listen to the wise man"

Queen - "The Prophet's Song" - A Night at the Opera

--

The mountainside was cold and brisk; its sister peaks straining towards the sky and their forgotten sibling across the fertile grazing lands of the west. The Central Plateau spread beneath the three mountains like a brown rash on an otherwise lush green skin. The slopes of the mountains were covered in a light dusting of powdered snow. This early in the season, snowfall was late in arriving, yet the chill breeze on the exposed peaks was reminder enough that winter had already griped the land.

The slope of the squat, multifaceted southern giant bustled with activity; its southern and southwest faces marked for recreational play, while the north and east were bare. A break in the snow was marked as several figures moved from west to north, moving towards the exposed volcanic rock of the naked summit.

"It probably can't get any worse," thought Sean Barker. The husky blonde archaeology student stubbornly slogged up the muddy hillside on the underside of a seemingly overloaded pack. The ground was a quasi-frozen slush, the wind and sun melting the powder to icy rivulets. Yet the wind on the peak blasted the harder snow away, leaving a furrowed trail and impending rain for the plains below. The young man pushed aside frustration and continued up the trail, following the pace set by the leader of their little expedition.

"Hurry it up you guys at the back, that storm is getting closer and we need to be at the cabin before it hits!" bellowed Professor Travis, the balding Englishman, his voice harsh like the chill breeze, clouded like the sky by a nimbus of some indistinguishable accent. His head, matching the mountain's bare scalp, was framed in a fiery red; opposed in bright contrast to the speckled white they were travelling through.

Down the line of trampers and over the ridge followed the lithe form of a young Japanese girl and the limber frame of the Australian. Sean barely noticed these two companions, his almost friends, however, as the irritability and gloom of the two before him had put him in a foul mood even before they had began their ascent up the barren slopes of Mount Ruapehu. Sean watched them over the top of his sunglasses.

--

Kristen and Zack, a pair of American exchange students. Both grumbled under their breath at the shape of the professor of geology disappearing over the ridge. Both were in the mental state of merely being out for a stroll. The man's dark hair matched his clothing, an almost macabre image in the stark colourless environment. The female was blonde, her hair catching what little sun raced ahead of the storm. Her eyes however, were cold, more so than the swift wind. Sean hadn't really spoken to them but they appeared to be shallow, vain and petty. While Sean was against judging others, these two had made out from day one that they were above the other students in the class. Snide remarks and self-righteousness had earned than a number of unsavoury nicknames. "Bastard" was a word that Sean could see them both wearing as well as the expensive tailored snowsuits, that in their own way seemed to mock the rather hap-dash ensembles worn by the rest of the party. He didn't really like shallow people; he had found them to be only out for themselves, vain people, selfish, but the eyes, they chilled him with the emptiness they projected. Potentiality a big factor, this self serving prejudice, which in a situation such as the one they were walking into, was not a good thing. This mountain wasn't a stranger to blood, nor indiscriminate rage. The entire country was rugged, tamed but wild, like a dog, domestic but also unpredictable.

Stepping over the ridge, biting air buffeting his thick jacket, Sean looked down upon the gently sloping volcanic bowl, which reached its terminus in the verdigris-coloured lake, the faint tang of sulphur clouding his nostrils. The cabin could be seen, in a shallow depression, sheltered on three sides by the hard basaltic rock. The cabin was a stout stone and wood affair; its roof high pitched to allow snow to slide off and a thick chimney stretching up like a native totara tree. The sun crested the rapidly overtaking clouds and struck out in farewell to the land, beams of light dancing on the bare peaks of the mountainous sisterhood. Sean pushed his sunglasses back up to the bridge of his nose and shrugged under the pack, repositioning it.

Almost like magic, as he stepped into the mouth of the beast, the clouds scudded gently across the sky, obscuring the remaining blue into a dull lead grey, and the first flakes of the oncoming blizzard lazily drifted through the sky. He stopped to take in the magnificence of natures, albeit premature; closing of the day.

--

The point of the whole expedition, as pointless as it now was, was for a geology assignment. Sean was an avid learner, depending on circumstances. That is to say that he would pay attention as long as something, anything, managed to hold his attention. He didn't like the whole structured learning environment that seemed prevalent throughout the western world, and as such, he usually took longer than other students did to pass classes. His high school guidance counsellor had termed it "a slacker attitude". Truth be told, he got bored easily, and had been reprimanded for displaying such boredom on more than one occasion throughout his colourful academic career. Over his twenty-five years of life he had studied parts of many fields and was yet to find his niche. But in recompense, he knew a little about a lot, as opposed to most who learn a lot about very little. Speciality training, Travis had called it, in being prepared for anything that decided to happen. But in his heart, Sean had always loved archaeology, so after winning a minor prize in the national lottery, he had paid up his student loans and gone back to study at university. He took the geology course to ground some knowledge of that in his head, old habits dying hard in a way. It would take a while but he had plenty of time, and at present, money.

Something about the hidden, the ancient and the way it formed the present and in its interpretation, the future, drew Sean to it. Answers in a seemingly nonsensical world.

Sean smiled quietly to himself, wondering that if he could do things differently, normally, whether he would or not.

However, due to the mountains gregarious nature and the unreliable meteorological service, this educational jaunt had been effectively sidelined.

--

"What's with you Sean?" asked a quiet voice. Sean knew it was Rei Keiosagi, the young Japanese exchange student. Turning towards her, he could she her face was at an angle, an expression almost of anime-esque confusion. Sean smiled to himself and spread his arms to encompass the vista before them.

"Not much, Rei, just taking in the view", he replied. She had obviously moved past him, continued, stopped and looked back to see him exposed on the cusp of the bowl, and then wandered back to ask if he was alright. Rei noticed that his face had gone from a quiet contemplative joy back to its usual shape, almost frowning, like something nasty was going to happen, and as soon as he had lowered his guard, it would strike.

Rei could not explain the feeling, but she was drawn to this man, secret and almost cold, like he had a burning fire of emotion behind, drawing the wandering heart in her closer. She shook it off; this wasn't the time or place for that kind of thought.

"Well, get moving or we're gonna have to dig you out in the morning" commented Travis over the wind. The tall Englishman was helping the two Americans and the Australian, Hugo Bannont, out of their packs. They had walked on, leaving Sean and his confused companion some twenty metres up the rocky trail. The snow didn't linger here in the crater, perhaps aware of the ferocious power beneath.

Sean shrugged at the remark, a gesture all too familiar, and wandered over to the professor and took off his pack. Turning and wiggling to release himself of the confining straps, he turned and Travis handed back his pack. Sean entered the cabin, its wide door and heavy beamed jamb overshadowing him, almost like he was entering a cave. Travis did likewise for the slender girl and followed her into the cabin, shutting the thick wooden door and the rising storm behind them.

--

The cabin was a deep affair, dug into the rock at the back and the floor. A small plaque, once gold, now more dusty that gleaming, detailed how a large deposit of pumice had been extracted and the small caves had been altered and incorporated to help support the cabin. Built, as it was into the mountain itself, the cabin had both the protection of the natural crater wall and the warmth that travelled through rock. A large wetback fireplace occupied most of the far wall, the rest of that wall occupied by a ceiling high pile of firewood, half log hunks and rings like side tables. Enough for the night, and then several dozen more.

Sean immediately dumped his bulky pack and insulated jacket against the wall nearest the door and moved towards the fireplace. Preferring a more moderate climate, neither too hot, nor too cold, he grabbed the topmost of a pile of newspapers in the corner and an armload of kindling wood. He then, tongue protruding from the corner of his mouth in an effigy of mute concentration, proceeded to light the fire.

The feel of eyes on him, some friendly, some not, caused Sean to replace his tongue in its rightful position and address his comment to the world in general and no one in particular. "The sooner this fire is lit, the sooner we can get cleaned up and eat." There was no untoward response and then a hulking shadow fell over his shoulder.

"How long, d'ya suppose, until the tank is heated" asked Travis, stroking what seemed to be several days of stubble on his chin. It seemed that when he wasn't yelling, his accent took a firmer hold.

"Dunno," said Sean, looking up at the face that most resembled some northern warrior deity rather than a university lecturer, "most likely around a couple of hours till it's heated to about a moderate temperature. Enough to freshen us up without killing us with frostbite anyway. Depends on how well and how hot this wood burns."

"Well, it's about two thirty or so now, so we might as well relax. Plus I'd rather have some fresh drinking water defrosted and a cup of coffee to wind down anyway. Warm the inside fore the outside. What about you, ah Sean?" asked the heavyset man. Sean liked him. He wasn't what most people considered the typical Brit, or assumed to be the typical Brit from television. He was more like a coalminer. Brash, good-natured and often prone to bad language, yet he had a gift for creating an air of mystery and intrigue about his teachings. Sean often wondered if he hadn't been a coalminer once, as his and the earth's relationship seemed pretty much like a marriage. The likeable man had adapted to life in New Zealand quite nicely, by the looks of it. He had once commented to his small geology class that he left England because he had had enough off all the monarchist nonsense and the shit people had to put up with. Oft times his accent would slip, becoming harsher or softer depending on the subject matter. This man had a colourful history, no doubt there.

Sean nodded and stood up. Looking around he could see the rest of the group doing their own things. Hugo, the twenty something year old Australian was into the food closet. The guy was stringy as hell, yet he ate like it was going out of fashion. Good thing was that the guy was a great cook and when he had food he was free to offer it. From what conversations they had had, Sean knew his parents were rather wealthy, Hugo's home being a large sheep and cattle station deep in Australia's heartland. Rei, the nineteen-year-old Japanese girl was talking quietly to Hugo while she set the gas cookers ready to go. She made Sean feel strange, yet he couldn't explain why. She was friendly, likeable and wore her heart on her sleeve with an innocence that was refreshing and wholesome. He had caught himself watching out for her on a couple of occasions, not realising until after the fact. It embarrassed him, but if she had noticed, nothing was said.

The returning thought of coffee pushed that other thought from his mind and made Sean's mouth water, as he slowly made his way towards the kitchen area, the fire, newly born behind him, crackling eagerly.

Hugo was rather plain looking, brown hair and eyes but an open face and ever rarer in today's world, an open mind. Rei was almost the moon to the blonde that Sean could see off in the corner of his eye. The total opposite to the burning sun. Pale, luminous and with eyes full of warmth and compassion. Of anybody in his life, she had been the only person that Sean had felt an instant attraction too. Her infectious behaviour and good nature often lifted him from his more depressive moods. Further than that, he didn't want to see, it bothered him thinking of her as anything else besides a friend. There was that embarrassment again. Damn.

Then his eyes roving, he caught sight of Zack and Kristen. Something about these two bugged him. A vibe, much more than simply the attitude and ego. Rich, he could tell when he first met them, that air of arrogance seemed to waft off them like the stink of fresh pig shit. They had only been at Auckland for the last month, having transferred from UC Berkeley in California. They looked down their noses at most of the other student's back at the campus. Like they weren't good enough to be in their collective presence. Zack was slouched down in a chair, as though he expected to be waited on, his hair hanging over his downcast eyes, while Kristen looked around in distaste as if she would not house a dog in such quarters. The dark haired athletic man in the chair was staring into the flames of the fire, like he was willing it to burst forth.

Sean managed to suppress a snort (and the surprising urge to piss on the fire; just to get annoy that American). He was all for cleanliness and comfort, even in abundance, but man, these two pushed it. It was almost like anything below Park Royal, Hilton, Sheridan or whatever was below them. "Far too distasteful, what?" Sean muttered under his breath with disgust.

Shaking himself from his revelry, Sean moved back towards his gear, the fire behind him coughing its way to full life. He pulled on his jacket and opening the heavy door stepped outside the cabin, shutting the blooming warmth behind him. Reaching deep into his jacket he produced a small unmarked metal case, flicking it open unconsciously with one finger. Lighting up a cigarette he inhaled deeply and sighed in relief. He knew it was almost a blasphemy, to enjoy the fresh air while having a smoke, but he had always enjoyed a cigarette in the cold weather. He had quit before, but had always started again. He never knew why, he always made some excuse, but really he was just looking for an escape, something to occupy his hands. Like the continued study occupied his mind.

He sighed.

But then again, who wasn't looking for that escape?

A small hand placed itself on his shoulder and handed him a large mug filled with steaming coffee. He had been so occupied in his pessimism that he hadn't even heard the door or the soft crunch of her boots.

"Penny for your thoughts?" said Rei. Again, Sean realised, she had done it. Calling him on whatever was getting him down, like she could feel his mood.

"Just wondering why I keep coming back to this damn habit. It's like a bad crush, first girlfriend kinda thing, or something."

"Maybe you're just waiting for the right reason to quit." The right reason, Sean thought, or the right person to quit for. Someone to hold in his arms instead of the cigarette in his hand.

"Maybe." said Sean, somewhat unconvinced, despite his silent musing. Rei wasn't surprised at his answer. In the short time they had been studying together, some six months, her student exchange visa being late and him being Sean, she could read him now like a favourite book. His pessimism was almost behemoth in its scope. They had argued the case once, she saying his pessimism was merely him trying to hide from the beauty of life, but him assuring it was simple common sense to be ready for anything. Sean had stated simply, optimism was a fairy tale, because nothing would ever go right all the time and being that way was simply setting oneself up for a fall; and that being prepared for the worst, allowed the nice things to be more of a surprise. Her poking her tongue at him had ended that argument in a way she still remembered. Him laughing. It was a joyous sound that had made her the happiest since she had left home. She really liked that sound.

It was sad that she didn't hear it more often. Sad too, that that conversation had been months ago.

--

Turning to leave, Rei patted Sean's shoulder gently and reached for the door handle. She thought better of it however, and stuck her gloved hand into the snow built up against the cabin's side, an icy extension of the crater rim. Quickly, Sean oblivious, already back in his melancholy, she placed it on the back of Sean's neck.

Sean squealed.

The giggling girl closed the cabin door on the wildly gesticulating man; the cigarette hissing on the damp rocks as it fell unnoticed from his lips.

--

The afternoon passed in a lazy haze, like the heat shimmering from the roaring blaze in the hearth. Hugo, after cooking a large early dinner had fallen asleep on an armchair, his long legs stretched before him. Travis was seated at the large table, busy going over his notes, his round reading glasses attempting to leap from his nose. Meanwhile a warm and content looking Rei sat next to the fire nursing a cup of herbal tea, her knees curled in against her chest, humming quietly to herself.

Noticing Sean looking at her she poked her tongue at him.

Sean, himself stretched out deep in an armchair, his thick socks half off his feet, drooping as relaxed as he was, a book in his hand, he turned his attention back to the Americans. They were seated on the couch furthest from the rest of the group, talking quietly to each other and going over their notes. Sean shrugged himself and turned back to his novel. He had read it before, but he enjoyed it, like seeing old friend's again.

--

The moon shone down upon the slopes of Mount Ruapehu, with the stark corrugated iron peeking through the snow on the top of the cabin. Slowly like a child drifting off to sleep unwilling, the clouds covered the moon like an eyelid and the blizzard dropped like a barometric missile on the Central Plateau.

--

Sean awoke, his eyes heavy. His sleeping bag was pulled tight around his head and body like a cocoon, his legs twisted in the material, wrapping him warmly. He burped deeply, early morning content. Closing his eyes, he hoped to drop back to sleep, mainly due to the fact that no one else was stirring and that there was no television to watch cartoons on. Almost back where he had been comfortable, he was jarred awake by undignified manly screaming.

"Fuck!" screamed the form of a half-naked Australian. Hugo had made the mistake of setting his feet on the floor without socks. The linoleum was, of course, unpleasantly cold.

Seeing the Australian dancing about in his strides set Sean and the newly awakened Travis into fits of laughter. The wiry man was almost like a puppet, limbs flailing as he sought heat in the icebox kitchen.

Gingerly moving back to the relative warmth of his down filled sleeping bag, Hugo gave them the finger, got dressed, and made his way to the outhouse.

Sean gingerly unzipped his own sleeping bag, twisting his legs from the confines. Sitting up slowly, the air chill against his naked chest, he pulled on his trousers and climbed out of bed. Making his way quietly to the fire as not to wake Rei, Kristen and Zack, he squatted down and proceeded to light the main and only major heat source they had.

The young girl looked beautific in sleep, innocence personified. Not surprisingly and not without a sneer of disgust, Sean also noted the American couple had moved nearer to the fire after the rest had lain down to sleep.

--

While the water boiled on the stove with which to do the dishes, Sean stood outside looking over the crater. The blizzard had only been a small one and while the temperature had plummeted overnight, the snow was just a sprinkling of powder. The crater was gray as was expected, the early sunlight cresting the rim, dancing across the crater lake, flicking colours across the mineral deposits in the water, rich reds and blue silvers highlighted in the otherwise aged copper green.

The door opened behind him and Travis stepped out, tightly packing his tobacco into his pipe with his little finger.

"So, what's the plan for today?"

"Well, Sean; I though we could take a look around the ridge line and head over to the monitoring station just over the far ridge." The chest of the burly man moved as his lungs pumped air through the slow lighting tobacco, a hammy fist and index finger indicating the ridge to the west. Sean waved his cigarette case at the professor in offering, but the large man shook his hand in the negative as his tabac caught.

"Cool." said Sean, placing the metal case back into his jacket.

Just then, Rei popped her head through the open door. "I had heard that Australian's and New Zealander's are born in barns but I expect better from an English gentleman." Travis was about to come out with a scathing remark, when he was interrupted as Rei continued. "Sean, your pots are ready."

"Cheers, Rei" said Sean nonchalantly as he knocked the thick powder off his boots and returned inside the cabin, calling to Travis over his shoulder, mock butler voice full force; "Shall I shut the door for you, Sir?"

The snowball missed his head, disappearing into the cabin and crashing against the far wall.

Travis turned to the scene before him and drew on his pipe. "Sarcasm has definitely corrupted that girl."

--

Some three hours later and the group were around the far side of the crater looking off towards the outer slopes that descended towards the fertile lands of the Waikato plains. Two hundred or so metres down the slope stood the monitoring station, squat in bulk and generally unassuming. Further down could be seen the chairlifts and platters which constituted the upper runs of Whakapapa Skifield.

"They ski, on the slopes of an active volcano?" Zack commented, clearly about to make some point, or opinion, which he believed to be gospel.

"Best slopes in the North Island," replied Sean, with pride in his country and in the slopes where he had first skied, or at least tried too. He still remembered it, some eleven years later. Sean however did omit that it was also the only ski-able slopes in the North Island.

"Dangerous if you ask me," said Zack, looking sidelong at Sean with a mocking tone in his voice. Opinion as gospel, it seemed.

Sean was about to say something offensive, having just about had it with this Yank wanker not saying anything unless it was derogatory, rude, offensive or all three. The bastard hadn't even thanked Hugo for the meals or anything. Hell, the guy took the place nearest the fire and let the fucking thing go out.

"Considering that the mountain has an advanced warning system, unparalleled in the world, the mountain can be cleared in an hour or so." interjected Travis, trying to diffuse the situation. His tone indicated something else too. Scorn, maybe. Travis obviously wasn't keen on the opinionated young man either.

"Still, that may be, but it betrays a lack of common sense to me," whined the haughty American, his mocking tone making it an insult rather than a statement.

Hugo quickly placed himself between the American and the reddening Sean. While they hadn't known each other for that long, both the Australian and New Zealander got on well, despite popular opinions that it was impossible in their respective countries, whose rivalry was a global legend.

"Chill," muttered Hugo under his breath, aside to Sean. Obviously the American was getting under his skin as well.

Sean merely grunted a forced positive and wandered off a ways to the south, looking out under the pretence to see if he could see Kapiti Island from his perch on the island's highest point. Really it was so he didn't do something stupid like knock that smart arse back into the crater.

Zack smirked at the blonde man's back, obviously enjoying his game of bait the man most likely to snap.

--

Stepping outside the hut and doing up his jacket, Brendan noted the group standing above him. Remembering something about a geology group from Auckland University being on the Mount, he realised they would probably want a look at the station. Someone to talk to would be nice, it was good to be alone but humans were social by nature. That and there were several young women up there and he was single.

--

"The monitoring station is manned by a single ranger on a forty eight-hour shift basis. While they sleep, eat and monitor, the auxiliary alarms could sound at any time. Totally automated, human intervention is only necessary for analysis, maintenance and notification." The group of students had made their way to the station, where their tutor had made the introductions. Most seemed interested while several of the small band obviously had other things on their mind. Most notably the two with American accents and the large blonde man.

From what the group had gathered in their short conversation, the guide, Brendan had been doing the job for a couple of years now. On a personal view, Brendan quite liked it. He got away from all the crap that came with city living and his love of extreme sports was what filled the other five days of the week when he worked as an outdoor recreation instructor for the various companies acting out of Taupo, Turangi and Ohakune.

His had been a quiet couple of years on the mountain, of which he was glad. He had started after the ash fallout and sulphur cloud incident that had occurred almost four years ago. He remembered it though; he was in Wellington at the time and remembered the grit falling and the stench on the harbour winds. It was a small eruption but its power was spectacular. That was the power of the earth, to do something explosive and then be still, like a pouting child.

He checked his wristwatch. Yep, it was time to check the markers. Various markers were set out in a small radius from the station and on the above ridge. Measurements where taken once a week to measure movement and other activity within the earth and in the free flowing molten rock beneath. Being on the crest of a subsiding plate, the numbers were always different, but not by much, not enough to case concern.

--

Sean couldn't see Kapiti Island. Cloud and all. Pity, but it had calmed him down. Moving down the slope slightly hadn't helped any but he had needed to make a pretence of paying attention to the guide.

Sean turned around to see a ranger talking quietly to Travis. Rei and Hugo were gossiping quietly, Rei occasionally looking over at Sean, but hiding the fact that she was doing so. Kristen and Zack were huddled conspiratorially over some sort of object that they held between them.

He just shrugged it off as some rich snob thing and walked over towards Travis and the ranger.

--

Zack looked at the machine he held shielded between his body and Kristen's.

"And these readings are accurate" he said. He had a commanding voice that had a harsh almost whining subtone. It was a voice that tried to command respect, but gave none. Uncious, it was the kind of voice one obeyed but pulled the finger at later.

"Yes," replied Kristen. "According to the readings the bio-signature of the device should be nearby." She looked around, glancing quickly across the crater and down the slope.

"About fucking time," said Zack "this country is a shithole. And its humans are annoying."

"Speaking of that, why must you provoke Barker?"

"That hothead? It's just something to pass the time." Zack seemed unconcerned about the object of his game, who would at first glance be able to put him down rather promptly.

"Do not let a casual dalliance disrupt the mission. Even if I do agree." Kristen spat, as if the taste of saying that had somehow sullied her mouth.

"No Commander," replied Zack in a sullen tone. There was no mockery this time however.

--

Travis introduced the ranger specifically to Sean, "This is Brendan - he's the mountain watcher, so to speak."

Sean feigned an apology for being slightly distracted which the ranger dismissed easily, before excusing himself from the small group to check and realign the data with his log.

Brendan then proceeded to take his readings, explaining as he went to the loosely assembled students what was what and why this had to be done and the so forth and what not. The experience was rather deflating, simple writing of numbers in a logbook and the ranger muttering about shifts in the crust of several microns more than normal.

They were about halfway through and about fifty metres from the hut, when a beeping began to emit from the pager attached to Brendan's belt. Swearing colourfully under his breath, Brendan made a bizarre looking trot through and across the snow towards his hut. About halfway there he barked back at the confused group over a jacketed shoulder, "Plate activity has just increased by a small margin, I just need to check the seismic readings. It probably just resettling but I have to check it out."

Sean quietly lit a cigarette and offered the pack to any that wanted one. Travis took one as did Zack, who needless to remark didn't say thanks. Sean inhaled quietly before turning to Rei.

"Shall we agree I was right now or wait until the shit really hits?"

--

Abruptly a sound rolled up the mountain to reach their ears. A claxon.

"Noise," said Hugo, he head darting around as the echo bounced from rock to rock.

"Bad noise," said Sean, pointing towards the cabin the ranger had disappeared into.

Sure enough, a panicked Brendan emerged from the hut; ski's over his shoulder, fear clearly written on his face.

"Move now!" he screamed at them indicating a downward path frantically with his free arm. "This bitch looks fit ta pop!"

Those were words anybody on an active and unpredictable volcano would pay attention to. Hearing that the group quickly headed on a downward route. Fast.

Brendan called over his shoulder, "Sorry to leave on skis but I have to make sure that the top lifts and cafeteria's are cleared. Stick to the ridge line and you should be all right, just take cover should anything go past you."

"Go" screamed Travis, "We're under control."

--

A roar sounded. It was deep and throaty, like the war cry of Hell sounding deep in the bowels of the Earth. Ripping, tearing, like a pulled flesh wound, festering with a burning poison.

Travis, Rei, Hugo and Sean had abandoned bipedal transportation, as the snow got thicker and powdered and had taken to sliding on their daypacks. Items such as matches and sunscreen sparsely littered the snow as the ice tore through the canvas. The quartet were a disjointed group, sliding where the fall of snow guided.

Kristen and Zack had stopped as soon as the others had begun to crest the next ridge and were looking at the small machine. Its surface was polished black and its small screen flashed ominously even in the noonday sun.

Stopping and looking over his shoulder Sean yelled, "This is not a time to watch fucking TV or whatever the shit it is you're doing! Move!"

He didn't see the opening rip in front of him; tearing across the ridge like a suicidal mole; all he saw was black and all he heard was Rei screaming.

--

She saw it all, Sean screaming in an angry, almost frightened tone at the Americans, careening down slope on the tattered daypack beneath his thighs. The rock and ice opening like a demonic smile before him, dark and jagged, and the look of "oh shit" terror as Sean saw it and was swallowed alive.

Rei screamed and the monstrous deity of stone gulped its victim into its fiery gut.

--

He landed with a thump.

He wasn't dead either.

Opening his eyes, Sean was greeted by a wonder. Veins of living rock above and below, clear quartz and cloudy, muffling the earth's lifeblood to streams of pink and orange. Hunks of raw sulphur, the smell wafting through hidden fissures in the ceiling. He saw a wonder. A cave heated by a stream of molten rock and lit by the same. The heat was welcome to the cold that had clasped him when the alarms began to scream. Moss covered most of the cave, life in the most violent and tenuous of places. The black fungal growth and the rapidly melting snow from the cliff side had cushioned his fall.

He could see no sky.

He had been swallowed by a mountain. A dangerous mountain.

--

This was just too messed up, too Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom for his liking.

Sean was sitting in a cave, obviously uncontaminated by human hands. Ancient. A cave, which had swallowed him up like a cheap treat. Sean's eyes darted quickly, pacing the beat of his heart, around the cathedral, sacrosanct to Mother Earth.

"At least I get to see some archaeology before I become a part of it," he mused.

That optimism Rei spoke so highly of almost seemed like sarcasm at this point.

Across the room, a glint, a something caught his eye.

A small metallic object was lodged in the cave wall, the quartz arteries of the earth forking around it, leaving it framed by liquid fire. About the size of the bottom of an aluminium can, it stood dull and untouched by the heat that seemed to build by the minute.

It winked in the fiery light.

Sean's mind screamed at him to leave it be, say his peace and buy the farm, maybe even feed some worms, but a constant stream of thoughts and warnings assaulted his consciousness, beckoning seductively that he pay attention to each and none other, all at the same time.

"It's not melted and we're in a volcano. Why am I -power- here, where no other human has -touch me- been? Why is the damn, -come to me-, thing winking at me, -I am you, you are me, we are us- no one ever by the looks of it. Good God it's almost like it's -become one- calling me, Christ! No, no, no, this feels bad -together- calling to me, it is bad, I gotta get out -me to you- calling -alone-gonna die, -us together- outta here, it's calling."

He had stood up and was edging, reluctantly closer and closer, his mind voicing stern protests, drowned out by this urge, that plea, call, whatever, to be, to touch. He reached his hand out.

He touched the metal. Sean recoiled and swore, his words heating the air more, the mystery having just got deeper. It was cold. The damn spooky thing was ice cold, like snow, like space. Burning cold.

Sean peered closer and saw his distorted portrait in the metal, his mind screaming out at him to back away. To. Just. Back. The. Fuck. Away. He ignored it as paranoia, pessimism, optimism. Didn't matter, he was a quarter pack now anyhow.

Paranoia erupted into full-blown fear as the metal exploded directly from the rock, magma like pus, oozing from the wound. Slowly like a predatory bullet, it grabbed him, coils like steel grasping his body and pulling him towards the burning core, winking conspiratorially. And like a hot spike into the condemned, it seared into his forehead.

Sean's screams of agony shattered the once peaceful cavern, the rocks melting as the veins shattered under the pressure of raw nature, purging itself in fury.

--

Swirling images and mosaics of blacks, whites and grey invaded his waking mind. So many questions but not enough answers. No answers at all.

--

Chapter Two

Birth

--

"Vessel cracked

Engage my greatest act

An opening seam

The arrival of a guest"

Subcircus - "Kill This Distraction, Kill Your Reaction" - The Witchblade OST

--

The first thing that Sean Barker felt upon awakening was a cold sweat, covering him like a mist, then a panic. Raging. Breathing heavily and flailing his limbs about, the smothering feeling left him, yet a tight grasp, warm and comforting, even in restraint, latched onto his wrists and ankles.

"Sean! Sean! Wake up, Sean!"

"Hwahgh" vocalised Sean, sitting bolt upright and slowly registering the fact that Rei had spoken, and that Travis held his wrists still, while Hugo held one ankle and nursed his eye with the other hand.

"I'm cool guys," said Sean, trying to make the simple offhand remark sound less forced than it felt. Sean had no idea were he was, and it bothered him that he couldn't even remember how he got here. Plus, he wasn't cool, he burned, fever like a sadist had rubbed deep heat all over him. "Sorry Hugo."

"No prob" said Hugo, cursing inaudibly, his mouth moving furiously, "I'm gonna go find some ice."

"Are you okay?" said Rei, directing the comment at Sean. Hugo threw his arms in the air and left.

"Um, that depends on okay as a definitive term," said Sean, his mouth dry and speaking a bit laboured, "first up, I really need a smoke, then I need to be told where I am and thirdly, and most importantly, in my eyes, I wish to know, exactly, what the fuck happened to me!?" The last was a bellow. He knew she was merely concerned but, hell, of course he wasn't alright. But something was lurching quietly about his subconscious, refuting that and singing off key. Sean banged the side of his head with the heel of his hand. A drip was feed into the wrist. Going to rip it out, a hammy fist halted him.

"First of all, you can have a smoke once Doctor Ropata has seen you. Second, you are in the Waiouru Army Base Hospital, and third, we don't know, they don't know, no one does. The rescue team found you lying in the snow halfway down Ruapehu. And lastly, calm down," replied Travis, slowly withdrawing his hand. His tone didn't allow any negotiation of the last, his fist still clenched.

"Indeed," seconded an unknown voice. The voice belonged to a muscular Maori man, decked out in a white lab coat and stethoscope. Casual dress trousers emerged below the hem, terminating in clean black shoes.

"Clichéd, but Dr. Ropata, I presume?" said Sean, overly uncomfortable with being in the metaphorical dark and being in hospital.

"Yes I am, and you, my lucky fellow, would be Sean Barker."

"You missed your calling, Doc. You should have been a detective."

"Is he usually like this?" the dark-skinned physician asked Rei and Travis.

Both nodded, almost reluctantly. "It's usually a bit worse but I'm not feeling that well," muttered Sean bitterly.

"Well then," continued the doctor, "you appear to be fine, apart from a slight case of exposure and those fresh puncture wounds on your back. Overall you appear fine but it is best to be cautious, especially in cases of possible head trauma, so we are going to keep you in for another two or so days to make sure everything is as it should be. The attitude, sadly, I can't fix."

Rei was grinning at the combined head trauma / attitude remark. Sean ignored the quiet giggling; something else had just registered.

"Wait a tick," said Sean, "what puncture wounds?"

"The wounds on either side of your spinal column, both approximately the size of a fifty cent coin. New wounds but strangely, while your clothing had blood stains in the area in question, the wounds themselves were fresh scar tissue, red raw in fact."

"Again, what puncture wounds? I never hurt my back or anything."

"I hate to break it to you Mr. Barker but there are fresh wounds, slash, freshly healed wounds on your back. I actually had photographs taken of them due to the fact that they were so uniform as to appear identical. That and the fact they are obviously recent yet maintain a strange reluctance to weep or extrude fluids of any kind."

Sean screwed his face up. Wounds on his back. He hadn't hurt himself and he couldn't feel any tight skin or pain. Taking control of himself, Sean said, his voice reluctant, "Let me see".

The doctor looked sheepish, before answering, "They are presently being developed." He wasn't off put by the man's mannerisms, the superstitious villagers in Guatemala could be much worse.

Sean began to mumble, effectively shutting off conversation.

Sensing his "audience" was at an end, the doctor called Travis aside and said "He may have a concussion as well so keep an eye on him and please don't let him get agitated." The last was almost an afterthought on the doctor's part.

"Sure thing, Doc," replied a worried Travis, omitting the fact it was obvious the student was agitated already.

--

Okay, officially speaking, Sean didn't like it one bit. Everyone had gone off to rest and he was here, alone. The cool moon shone down onto the cold floor of the hospital ward, its silver luminescence casting a ghostly pallor over everything. It didn't help he didn't like the sterile smell and feel of hospitals, but add to it the fact that his dreams...

He wasn't sure they were even his.

He had been dreaming. He couldn't remember the dream itself but when he awoke he was drenched in a sweat and his back burned. So now he was sitting on the side of the bed, gathering his wits. The sweat was cold on his thinly clad body. He shook himself.

Standing slowly to avoid inertia, he wandered slowly towards the bathroom. A nurse looked up at him questioningly, but seeing his direction dismissed it, as simply a man's pride, not wanting to use a bedpan.

Opening the door and removing the constricting hospital shirt, Sean looked at his stubbled and drawn face in the mirror. It actually seemed like he had aged in the short time that he had been out on that cursed mountain; and in this damn hospital. His eyes were sunken and his pupils dull and haunted.

An itch started at the base of his neck, his eyes lost in their reflective counterparts. The discomfort grew, so twisting and turning, Sean managed to see his back and the marks that the doctor had mentioned earlier. Almost gagging on his bile, Sean straightened his body and leaned over the sink.

They were angry red welts, raw and hot. Worse still was the fact that they had large septic cores. And they moved, throbbed.

Thinking about it, albeit unwittingly, Sean lost the contents of his bland and tasteless hospital lunch into the basin before him.

He reasoned quietly to himself that this was not normal. Sure he had a few abscesses when he was seventeen or so but he hadn't had any for years. And these bastards were the worst he had ever seen. Even the one that had dominated his lip for a week and had been nearly the size of a golf ball hadn't looked that bad. Sure it had stunk but damn.

Naturally, Sean, being human and curious, (as well as being mad, some would argue), reached his hand over his shoulder and tentatively poked one of the proturbences.

White flashes of agony ripped across his mind.

--

This was kind of familiar. He had seen this before. The familiarity was like a recurring fever dream or watching that cheesy Mortal Kombat movie stoned for the ninth time.

The sky was a fiery orange shrouded in dark grey cloud's scudding across like huge blimps, flaming like the Hindenburg.

Pods. Huge pods, with legs like spiders. Hundreds of them, landing like squat intergalactic toadstools. Cancerous and alien. Not of this earth. Definitely not terrestrial.

They were landing. Landing on mountains, hills, and plains and in the seas, the foaming black, boiling seas.

Mountains crumbling under the weight of the spider pods. Crushed to pebbles under the seismic tremors instigated in a demonic landing cycle.

The pods opening, hunched on their spindly legs. Carrying something, something's plural.

Spacecraft yet organic, smooth and veiny, grown, like galactic vegetables.

Glowing luminent beings descending the ramps, looking over the ravaged earth marred by their landing, the giant dinosaurs screaming in their death throes.

Humanoid beings yet apart and different. Unfathomable. Alien.

There is some life here. Plants and amphibians and the hulking reptilians, yet no humans. No mammals, no apes.

The aliens, for that is what they are, seem to be watching, learning.

The terrible lizards are here now, raging against the threat that fell from the sky.

Fear and wonder on the alien's part. Yet the lizards falter, dying as they struggle to live, to push along the path to their destiny.

They, these spacemen, are caretaking, nurturing something, what?

Mammals? Yes, but what? Monkeys? Not monkeys.

The forebears of man, steering our path.

Are these our Gods? Our Creators?

A new shape, still not a man, yet not an ape. More so. Less so.

Different.

Green this creature is, and like wild nature personified.

Wild yet with a consciousness, derived of purpose.

What drives this being?

The remaining terrible lizards are running, fleeing for their lives as the dust continues to spread.

The earth is shaking, birds lifting from trees, animals scurrying from the dust.

Hiding. The monkeys are hiding. Are they afraid?

The pods are closing. No wait! Don't leave! They take flight.

Blue fire, organic propulsion, up and away into the endless black sea of night.

Fire rains down. The sun is blocked by a shadow larger than the sky itself.

The earth screams as the dust rises. A transition.

Death.

--

Sitting bolt upright, Sean's ragged breathing echoed through the cool harsh world of the bathroom. Tears began to spring from his eyes. Reason's unknown. Just a base need, born of despair, abandonment and loneliness. A feeling of loss. Somehow he had fallen to the floor. Naked and cross-legged he cried like a lost child.

--

Morning dawned quicker than the blonde man would have liked. He felt like the world had kicked him in the ribs. After what he hoped was merely a fever induced vision created by bad blood, he had wandered back to his bed and fallen into an uneasy slumber. Yet through his otherwise peaceful dreams he had witnessed flashes of the images he had seen in the bathroom, disturbing and superimposed like strobe lighting over his other nocturnal meanderings.

He was kind of freaked out by the entire incident.

Shaking himself awake further, he grabbed the robe that hung beside his bed and shrugged it onto his shoulders. Almost blindly he rummaged through his pants, and satisfied in his find, he left the main building, a simple prefab structure, and sat himself down on a bench outside.

With the sun rising before him, Sean lit the cigarette in his fist and tried to rationalize something, all the while his conscious mind screaming and gibbering at him.

--

By afternoon he had almost dismissed the whole incident as a figment of delirium.

So, standing outside, cigarette on his lip, cheap dispenser machine coffee in his hand (the stuff always tasted like shit, as if by divine credo, no matter where he got it from. But it always had heaps of caffeine, so it marginally qualified as consumable), dressed in jeans, a thick cotton shirt and his boots, he looked and felt like a new man.

That is, if you forgot about the crap coffee.

Travis, along with the rest of the crew pulled up in the van supplied by the University. It was an off white colour with the blue emblem of the scholastic institution on both the driver's and front passenger doors. Hugo and Travis looked pleased to see their friend on his feet again, albeit that Hugo could only see out of one eye, and was grumbling about it. His oval shaped sunglasses did little to cover the bright purple and red shiner. Rei had a bright, unreadable expression on her angelic face, like she was thinking about something only she was privy too. Zack and Kristen simply looked put out. Sean ignored them, sitting slumped in the back of the van and slipped in next to Rei, who had opened the sliding door, and threw his cigarette butt out the door, before slamming it shut.

Greetings and other pleasantries where passed around while Travis outlined the changes that had to be made due to Sean's accident and the mountains unexpected 'hissy' fit, as he put it.

"Well team," he began, "seeing our friendly mountain has decided to show us its feminine side", at this both Hugo and Sean winced, as Rei gave the professor a nuclear irradiated stare, "we have time and funding to kill. My suggestion is taking some time out further up the island, maybe Rotorua?"

The three who where paying attention, declared their enthusiasm for this idea while Zack and Kristen seemed to be off in their own plane of existence. Rotorua was a large city located halfway between the desert and the Bay Of Plenty to the north. It was a volcanic wonderland, boiling mud, geysers and other geo-thermal activity making it a major tourist attraction.

Muttering under his breath, Travis promised to himself to have words with those two American students. Part of the expedition was to create a team dynamic, essential for any field work they would undertake as graduates, yet they remaining aloof and cold while his other students integrated and showed the signs of lasting friendship beginning. Travis turned the key and the van coughed to life. Slowing checking his surroundings, he manoeuvred the vehicle into the roadway and they began their trek north.

--

The two-hour road trip seemed to just fly past. Strangely the only scenery was the manufactured pine forest used for New Zealand's pulp and paper industry, occasionally interrupted by geo-thermal pipeline, massive tubes of white lying across the landscape like giant albino earthworms.

Sean had tried to drowse off, but the images from the bathroom floor played across his eyelids like some severely messed up projectionist had set up shop in his head. Giving up on that, and the embarrassment any nightmares might create, he contemplated the scenery.

Suddenly he was shaken from his musings as a warm hard mass landed just below his shoulder. Turning slowly he realised it was a head. Rei's head to be accurate. Sean looked down at her smooth face framed by her ebony tresses. Peace just seemed to radiate from her pale skin.

"You really should let her sleep." Hugo said, turning in the front passenger's seat to look at him, "She sat with you for most of the time at the hospital and only left when Travis threatened to flunk her. That didn't work so he added braining her to the mix."

Sean smiled. Somehow that caused him to feel very warm inside. It felt pleasant, but deeper, like contentment in his soul.

"Exactly," said Hugo turning back around and nudging Travis. Travis averted his eyes from the road to see Hugo wink at him.

--

Zack and Kristen were leaning against each other asleep in the rear of the van. Both were blissfully unaware that the strange device they had been looking at on the mountain was pulsing a furious red deep in Kristen's backpack. The sound was turned down, but the persistence of the alarm was testimony to something important.

--

Two hours always seems like a long time when your arm is asleep, thought Sean as the young woman he had been propping up, awoke when the momentum of the vehicle changed from going to not going.

Hugo had already swung himself out of the van and was stretching his arms behind his back in an attempt to work out the kinks.

Sean slid the heavy panel door open and nearly fell out of the van. Uprighting himself, he patted his pockets attempting to find his cigarettes. One magically appeared in front of him attached to two large fingers.

These fingers were in turn attached to Travis. In the downhill escape from Ruapehu's fury, his pipe had gotten wet. All attempts to dry it had so far proved in vain.

"Cheers," said Sean as he breathed in deeply.

"No problem," muttered the professor. Something was going on behind his eyes, something that was causing him trouble. And it wasn't just the injuries his charge has sustained while under his supervision.

After a moment of relaxed silence the Englishman spoke.

"Say Barker, you seem to pay attention, what is your take on those Yanks?"

"Fhhif" exhaled the blonde man sharply as he looked over his shoulder to see the two American's looking out over Lake Rotorua. Their vantage point in the parking lot of the Copthorne Resort gave a wide view of the lakeshore and city.

"That much, huh?" probed the professor.

"Well, Travis, it's not so much the fact they have only been in the class for a month, it's the attitude, the almost ethnocentric aloofness. Admittedly the rest of us have been together for some time now, even those who went to other locals for this trip, but those two haven't even made an effort to mesh."

"That they are better than we mere mortals. I've noticed it too. It's dangerous in a team to say the least." The recent actions of Ruapehu went unmentioned.

"I just said that, but your bluntness... "Sean protested to be met by a mocking smirk on his professor's face.

Sean just shook his head and waggled his middle finger under the Englishman's nose.

--

Late afternoon and the sun were brushing the sky a dull pink. Everybody had wandered off to make the most of the resort's facilities. Travis had expressed interest in the weight room, an almost complete gymnasium, while Hugo's interest lay in swimming a few laps of the Olympic sized pool. Rei had almost melted with ecstasy upon seeing the word 'sauna' and had disappeared soon after. Zack and Kristen had left to go shopping or something out in the city, not that anyone really cared. It had become obvious that both the opinions of Sean and Travis were shared by their Australian and Japanese comrades.

This left Sean alone and with nothing to do. Gritty was his main thought. A night in hospital and some scummy wounds on his back, answered his more immediate question. While he had showered before leaving, the lack of sleep and travel had added to a certain irritability. The offer to join Rei in the sauna had been tempting, a steam bath to work out his tension, but the though of unsightly and septic wounds had made him renege.

Sean made his way into the white bathroom, flicking the dial on the showerhead. Disrobing and stepping under the steady stream of warm water, Sean's body relaxed for the first time since the fever dream. His mind, slowly, almost reluctantly decided to follow.

Standing there, the blonde man let his worries wash away, simply loosing himself in the comforting cascade of water.

POP

"Huh", said Sean shaking himself awake. The water had lulled his senses.

Turning around, eyes closed and head back, Sean let the water run over his shoulders. Breathing deeply, at the sensation of his back, he almost gagged.

The smell was putrid. While Rotorua itself had a sulphuric smell all its own due to its many geysers, mud pools and vents, the nose adapted to those smells within the first thirty minutes of nasal contact. This was fresh.

Opening his eyes, Sean wished he hadn't. Up the back of the shower wall was a viscous trail of pus, blood and what looked like tar. His hand slammed against the wall, as nausea rocked him and Sean retched violently.

Coming awake this quickly and unpleasantly his body needed some time to catch up. Slowly, almost like a sinking feeling in his stomach, Sean could feel a lessening of tightness and a thicker quality to the water.

So those things on his shoulders had burst.

Good, he had had blood poisoning once and that was bad enough. Still the thought of infected blood turned his stomach.

Sean's face paled as he positioned his back under the flow and felt the water pucker the edges of the abscesses. Almost like he was thinking about it before acting, he tricked himself and pulled his arms across his chest, hoping the added strain pushed the remaining crap out of the wounds. He knew that this was disgusting, letting his body's pollutants out in the shower but panic overode his reason in an almost maniacal way. The stuff almost seemed to burn, and he was almost lost in a haze as too expel it. Sean grimaced in pain.

--

Fifteen minutes (and feeling a hell of a lot better) later, the blonde man stood in the bathroom, with a towel wrapped tightly around his waist. He had let the water rinse his back until he could see no gunk in the water, then he had washed himself thoroughly. The thought of that stuff made him shudder. Then he had clambered out of the shower, wrapped the towel around himself and boiled the jug. Rummaging about in the cabinet's he found a bottle of peroxide - another guest's leftovers. With this and the jug of hot water, he thoroughly washed out the shower stall. Then boiling the jug again, he poured the remaining contents of the peroxide bottle and all the hot water down the plughole.

Turning the dial once more, Sean loosened his towel and began the process again, the lump in his stomach beginning to lessen.

Finally, standing there, towelled once more and satisfied in a job well done, Sean finally managed to look at himself in the mirror. Pushing the compulsion to glance at his back aside, Sean grabbed his shaving gear from his toilet bag on the vanity and ran some warm water into the sink.

Halfway through his shaving, face covered in foam, a knock sounded on the door.

Sean muttered about timing and bellowed "Hold up!" his hand clasping his towel around him tighter, as he walked towards the door to his suite.

Rei looked up from the floor as he opened the door, blushed scarlet and looked down again.

"We were thinking about going out on the Lakeland Queen for the dinner cruise."

"Sweet, sounds like a goer." replied Sean. He always sounded like some adolescent when he used slang, but he had never broken the habit, despite the looks it got him.

"Okay, one hour at the front desk!"

"Sure," said Sean as Rei skipped off waving to him and humming to herself.

Sean shook his head at her overabundant happiness and went back into the bathroom to finish shaving, and to get ready for the night out. He again resisted the urge to look at his back.

If he had looked all he would have seen would have been two angry pink scars, looking like they had been there for years.

--

Under an hour later, Travis, Hugo and Sean, all done up in the best clothes they had, were standing in the main foyer. Travis had on a pair of dark green dress trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up; his hands buried deep in his pockets. His close cropped red hair, where he actually had any, clashed violently with his trousers.

Hugo had dressed in a black pair of trousers, white shirt and dark red leather vest. He leaned against the wall, scuffing one of his cowboy boots against the back of his other leg. His brown hair hung limply, attempting to get in his eyes.

Sean only had jeans with him, so he had picked out the least awful looking pair. A faded light blue with a light green coloured cotton shirt. His blonde hair was pushed back and looking slightly askew, which wasn't unusual. Under the shirt was a thick white cotton t-shirt, its neckline showing where his buttons were undone. Part fashion and part a measure of getting any more gunk that decided to leak out of him.

Muttering to himself, Travis was complaining semi-audibly about woman and their beautification rituals. Sean moved towards Hugo and asked, "Where are our American friends?"

"Oh, something about sightseeing, cos they haven't been here before or something."

"Oh."

"What man, you're pretty suspicious of those two, ain'tcha?"

"Yeah, I can't explain it; it's like a feeling, in my gut."

"Bad gas?" quipped the Australian. "But yeah, I know what you mean."

Sean retort was silenced on his lips as Rei entered the lobby. She was dressed in a Chinese style silk dress with a high collar and gold trimming. Her black hair was done up in a bun with those little chopstick things through its mass, holding her hair in place. She looked radiant.

All three men were quiet, Travis's complaints dead on his lips. Sean wondered why she had packed such a stunning dress on what was originally to be a geology field trip. Shaking aside the question, answering it, that woman were unfathomable, he was content to just take in her beauty.

"Come gentlemen," the young Japanese woman, said, smiling, obviously pleased at the reaction gained, "We have a dinner appointment."

--

The gentle lapping of the waves caressed the sides of the paddle steamer. Dinner was over and the sound of popular music drifted out from the main floor of the boat across the quiet expanse of Lake Rotorua.

Hugo had made his way over to a group of female tourists and was busy ingratiating himself, dancing (albeit spasmodically) with a beautiful blonde. Travis, shirt unbuttoned slightly had taken a position at the far end of the bar and was nursing a large bourbon. He had retired to his current position on a pretense of watching his students. The fact he was engaging in polite conversation with a stunning redhead was a happy coincidence. Both seemed content in their activities and Sean half smiled, turning back to the lake. Rei was linked arm and arm with him, looking out over the quiet lake.

The soft strains of 'With Arms Wide Open' by Creed, played gently in the background, the soulful lyrics almost hymn like.

"With arms wide open,

Under the sunlight,

Welcome to this place,

I'll show you love,

I'll show you everything,"

The moon shone down on the lake, a pale glow, suffusing the air. Sean was spellbound by the light on the water and beside it, the city illuminated by neon and tungsten. He didn't see Rei looking up at him, her face pale, angelic in the moon sheen, and smiling.

--

On shore, the American's had returned to the Copthorne. Having 'acquired' a laptop computer, the man completed a satellite uplink using what looked to be a cellular phone, ported to the printer line. The number on the cell's face was international, to somewhere in the Northern Hemisphere.

Blinking to motion, a video-chat interface crackled to life. A shrouded figure, dark and menacing seemed to pin the pair with his gaze, sitting before a dark background. Very little was shown in the view screen, yet the intensity of the image was unmistakable.

"Status report", the figure stated in a sephulric voice, one that would be more at home in a deep tomb or at the bottom of the ocean.

Kristen, being the senior officer, spoke first "Sir, we had a concentrated reading at the co-ordinates of thirty nine point four degrees South and one hundred seventy five point five degrees East. However some volcanic activity caused our signal to be lost and we have been unable to gather readings since."

"Well, then", the gravelling voice replied, "Perhaps in your incompetence you should have checked the device which has been blinking constantly for the last six hours." While another voice may have contained sarcasm, the thinly veiled threat spoke volumes.

With that, waves of white searing agony assaulted both the students, sending them weakly to their knees. The darkened figure smiled crookedly. His point had been made.

"I expect results in the next six hours or your bio-signatures will be erased."

The voice and its shrouded owner blinked off the uplink, leaving static in the viewer window.

Standing slowly, Zack grabbed the computer and slammed it angrily to the ground. The screen shattered and several keys bounced across the floor.

"Either way, we're fucking dead, Doctor!" He spat, cursing the figure who had unceremoniously made a do or die situation, undoubtedly terminal.

--

The two students left on the mainland had changed their clothing. Going from jeans and shirts, both now stood clad in black body suits with dull grey pads covering major muscle clusters. Chest, stomach, shoulders, knees and wrists were protected, terminating in sparing gloves of the same colour over their knuckles. The form fitting costumes were almost religious in their uniformity.

Kristen removed the device from the abandoned backpack and silently chided herself for letting her attention slip from her duties. Clipping the device to her belt and connecting a headphone jack stitched into her uniform, she then slipped the earpiece protruding from her high collar into place.

"Well?" Replied her surly companion.

"The signal appears to have followed us, or the volcanic activity may have sent it this way. Its possible it may be within the flow of magma." Even she had trouble with his short attitude occasionally.

"Where?"

"Almost two thirds out into the lake on a direct line between that wharf we passed on the way here this afternoon and the small island in the centre of the lake."

"Well then," Zack replied "its time to collect." The statement wasn't filled with optimism.

--

Sean never considered himself to be a good dancer. In fact he barely ever did unless drunk, in which case he was usually beyond caring. And that only happened at New Year's so he let it slide. Rei however would have none of his excuses and had forced him out onto the dance floor.

After attempting to look like he knew what he was doing, and getting large grins from Hugo and Travis, Sean merely accepted his fate and plotted revenge on the Australian who was laughing at him. He took it as some consolation he was apparently better at dancing than Hugo. Maybe lives would be spared.

--

Forms, half submerged, dark, arose from the still waters and glanced towards the flickering gaiety that was the Lakeland Queen and slowly like a primordial predator descended again.

--

Having managed to slip away to go to the bathroom, Sean detoured on the way back to the dance floor and found himself out on the deck looking at the stars. Lighting a cigarette he had taken from his pocket, he dragged deeply. Coughing harshly, he looked confused at the cigarette. It was a brand he didn't usually buy, yet it was one that was at the lower end of the tobacco spectrum. Just above menthol for the record, about as mild as he could get. He shook his head and tried again. This time, as well as coughing, the wounds on his back throbbed. Dry retching, Sean flicked the almost complete cigarette overboard. It surprised him. All day, no matter how mild, his body had rejected the nicotine he craved. He shrugged and leaned his elbows on the railing. Maybe he was coming down with something.

--

The forms emerged from the black waters once more. Twenty metres to their target and only one human on the outer deck, designated male by its stature and build. A second humanoid was approaching, female by its size and motion.

--

Rei stopped next to Sean. She looked at him sidelong, worried. He had been distant since they had collected him at the hospital. She had seen him sleeping, turning and muttering as the sweat beaded his brow. Something was disturbing him. She was half minded to ask him, the other to let him tell her when he was ready.

"So, whatcha doin?" she asked going with noncommittal banter.

"Just getting a bit of fresh air."

"So is that the politically correct term for it now?" she barbed.

"You will be pleased to note, it tasted like shit, so it's out in the lake."

"So you also know what shit tastes like?"

Sean laughed heartily at the girl's comments. She surprised him, pleasantly. He wouldn't have expected such a ballsy comment.

"Uhh"-said Sean slumping slightly against the rail, his shoulder had throbbed tightly. It felt like it was going to pull his shoulderblade off.

Rei, immediately concerned, placed her hand on his cheek "Sean?"

"Nothing just a twinge on my back where that Doc said I got hurt."

"Do you want to go sit down inside?"

"No," replied Sean gently taking Rei's hand from his cheek and enveloping it in his own, "but I do want to thank you for being there for me at the hospital."

--

Alongside the boat below the humanoids, the figures could see that they had each other's hands grasped. Slowly, methodically, the forms began to scale the side of the boat. The wet wood was tight with tar and quietly they began to climb. A creak sounded as a patch of older wood was disturbed.

"What was that?" squeaked the smaller form. Her face had been looking deeply at the man's and the noise had broken some moment about to take place.

"Beat's me," said the larger form, looking rather annoyed at the break in mood and it peered over the side of the boat into the watery gloom.

The foremost form recognized it and grabbed its collar, pulling him over the railing and into the lake.

--

They stood there looking deep into each other's eyes, time almost frozen. Sean felt confused more than anything. He was twenty five and she was nineteen, yet something was going on between them, and just as Sean was looking for a reason to pull away, confusion and honour overriding attraction, Rei spoke.

"What was that?"

"Beat's me," said Sean looking over the railing. Seeing a face there was unexpected. Much less a face he recognized. The person scaling the side of the boat was a little much to take in.

"Za..." he started to say as a hand grabbed his collar and pulled him with an inhuman strength.

The next thing Sean knew he was in the cold lake.

--

Chapter Three

Changes

--

"The subculture of my dreams

Is waiting for me to fall asleep

I know you're scared, you should be

I know you're scared"

Live - "Heropyschodreamer" – Secret Samadhi

--

The calm moonlit night was shattered as Rei screamed, watching as Sean was pulled bodily over the railing of the Lakeland Queen.

A hard splash was heard as Sean's body hit the water like a stone, landing on his back. The impact stunned him, the bitter cold shocking him. His mind raced. His body still hadn't recovered fully from his exposure and the incident in the shower. He slowly began to struggle but his limbs failed to respond. He felt weak and listless.

He was drowning.

--

Zack and Kristen pulled themselves over the railing to stand before a startled and horrified Rei.

Kristen dropped a waterproof sack at her feet and looked at the slight Asian girl.

Stuttering in shock, Rei managed to say "Sean, what, what did you do to him?"

Kristen casually took several steps forward and backhanded the girl, sending her spinning into the nearest wall. Rei unceremoniously slumped to the deck in a heap.

Zack looked sidelong at his partner quizzically. Normally she was composed and collected. She usually left the petty violence to him.

"Uppity bitch always got on my nerves," replied Kristen. Zack conceded by nodding his head slowly. She was a bitch. Viciously poking Rei with his foot to make sure she wasn't faking it, Zack began moving towards the main deck, Kristen following, their automatic submachine pistols removed from the damp sack and clutched eagerly in their hands.

--

Again the lake felt the presence of an unwanted visitor. This visitor was not happy. It fact it was severely pissed off. Angry at a metabolic level to be precise. The water bubbled as if boiling, like a hot rock was just under its surface.

--

Submachine fire rang across the lake like a clarion as Zack and Kristen discharged their weapons from opposite sides of the dance floor. Controlled they had flanked the main exits and hemmed the partygoers into the main hall.

Silence descended like a curtain, one woman began to whimper. Zack pointed his gun at her and cocked the trigger noisily, waggling his finger in a tut-tut-tut motion across her face.

The woman shut her mouth with an audible click.

Travis, who had been slowly fogging his mind with drink, enjoying a rare chance to cut loose, was not sober several minutes ago. Now, after all his efforts and the fact it was his students holding up a boat of partygoers for a currently undisclosed reason, was enough to annoy him and bring him unwillingly back to sobriety.

"What the hell is the meaning of this!" he bellowed, directing his angry gaze at the boy. Zack snarled and made a step towards the professor. He was cut short by his partner's response.

"Pipe down you pompous old windbag, or you can spend the evening holding your guts in." replied Kristen, gun rested easily in one very aware hand, the other holding a wickedly curved and serrated knife.

There was a delayed silence, several seconds reaching out in what seemed an eternity before it was broken. "What do you want", asked the captain of the steamer.

"Simple," replied Kristen, "The Unit. If we get it, we leave, minimum of casualties."

An evil sneer spread across Zack's face at that. Travis caught the bloodlust in his eyes and shuddered. Hugo, who was standing in the middle of the throng and looking at the American, didn't like their chances after seeing that. Thinking back, maybe he should have let Sean kick the crap out of him on the mountain.

While the passengers discussed this amongst themselves, Zack pulled another gun from a holster, standing in a John Woo-esque style, both guns held sidelong, barrels moving like dead eyes over the crowd.

Kristen had left the hall and returned quickly, a limp Rei under her arm, the sack in the other hand. Tossing the prone form of the girl on the ground, both Hugo and Travis made their way to her. Hugo knelt beside her as Travis loomed over them. The girl was unconscious and had a nasty bump on her head. Hugo looked up at Travis and gave him a reluctant thumbs-up.

Kristen bolted the door she had just returned through with a length of some sort of chain and moved to stand with Zack by the other, which covered by his twin guns, she bolted as well.

Zack motioned them all to their knees with his gun barrels and looked questioningly at his partner. She simply nodded. He had simple pleasures and these people knew too much now anyway. The two guns clattered to the deck as the man began to seize.

Zack stood, his shoulders shaking and rolling, his face contorted in a horrid rictus, a deviant smile. His shoulders bulged and his uniform began to split, the material tearing easily for a fabric that looked so sturdy. His ears pulled themselves back up his head, the skin stretching like latex and molding as his features tightened. His boots and gloves split open to reveal black claws and wiry hair sprung from the rips in his pristine uniform. Then in what seemed like a final push from within his body, like the birth of a demon, a large hulking Cro-Magnon monstrosity with a bat like face stood in the place of the arrogant American student.

The passengers all shrank back but no one said anything. A collective gasp was about it. And that woman started whimpering again.

The creature then laughed, a gurgling noise deep in its throat that sounded like a death rattle.

The whimpering woman found her voice and opened her mouth to scream but was stopped with her mouth wide open as Kristen placed the barrel of her pistol in it. The woman looked to her pleading, but Kristen just shrugged and pulled the trigger. Blood and brains rained down on the audience. Silence, apart from the thud of a woman falling to the deck, fainted and the blood falling like misty rain.

Travis was now sure that whatever the hell was going on, it was a one way dinner trip they had landed themselves on. The cold in the girl's eyes that he had noted was now burning forth. There wasn't going to be any mercy here and one false move would mean a painful death.

"Well Ramotith, ask away," she said to the once-Zack, who licked his lips as the blood slowly pooled on the deck of the ship.

"Where is The Unit?" the monster said. More like a statement than a question.

No one said a word. It was either speak and be marked as apart or remain silent and have a chance.

Ramotith grabbed a young tourist, by the head. "Again I ask, where is The Unit."

"We have no idea what you are talking about... sir." said the Captain as the ape-thing glared at him. It was his boat; his rules and these people were violating it. Plus it looked more people were going to die unless someone stood up.

"Wrong answer" said Kristen as the beast crushed the boy's head like it was an overripe tomato.

The captain fell to his knees.

--

Out in the lake the intruder had seemed to sense some sort of disturbance. It felt that the thing that had angered it was responsible. If not, it would be interesting to see what could create such panic and raise anger in itself. The intruder moved off in the direction that it felt its rage lead at high speed, cutting through the water like a torpedo.

--

"God dammit, we don't know what the fuck it is you want!" screamed Hugo, anger making the lanky young man brave. The two headless bodies had shocked him to anger, Travis at his side, fists clenched.

Ramotith went to grab the young man, but a wave from Kristen put him back in line.

She activated the device. "Odd" she thought, then turned to Ramotith, "It was here and know it's not. The humans aren't lying," she said, "Its not here."

The beast Zack let out a bellow of rage.

"Calm down Ramotith, you will get..." She was cut short as a beeping noise pulsed rapidly from the device she held. She pulled the device off her belt to check the readout more thoroughly. A small green dot was converging rapidly on the central crosshairs. So the beta technology was a success after all.

"Head's up handsome," she said to Ramotith, "It's heading our way."

The device began to whine steadily and Kristen shut it off, sliding it back into her belt as she looked about the room slowly. "It's outside."

Ramotith lumbered towards the door. A pattering was heard as a red shape went past the windows at high speed. The monster quickly broke the chains, opened the doors and looked out.

"Nothing there," it gurgled as it turned to Kristen. She was staring at the far doors.

They hung off their hinges, shattered like matchwood. In the opening stood a figure. Sleek and streamlined, muscles well defined in what looked like armour plating. A large fin protruded from the top of its head, with a smaller fin on either side. Set between each spike was a glowing silvery orb set into the head, with another central globus on the forehead like a third eye. A smaller orb about quarter the size sat above it. Each shoulder had three small spikes; each forearm had a larger protrubance, like the dorsal fins of an ocean predator. The creature was a dull red, with orange and pink patches where the armour joined. Its eyes glowed a pale blue.

The central orb flashed menacingly. The figure was imposing, standing nearly seven feet tall with the fin on its head and its muscles bunched in a battle ready pose, staring straight at the beast and its mistress.

"Damn, it's been activated!" said Kristen

"Fuck." cursed Ramotith

Steam vented from two ridged holes on either side of the figure's head where the mouth should have been.

The creature looked to Travis. Its gaze burned into Travis's. "Get or take them out of here." Travis said as he roused the shocked Hugo. The Australian complied, ushering the passengers out behind the red man with the help of the Captain. Travis bent down, picked up the limp form of Rei and slowly backed out the doors.

The ape-beast and the fin-man just stood there, staring each other down.

"Shit," the girl said, "it's Barker, I should have clicked earlier, we threw him overboard and them this thing shows up. It all fits; he must have activated the Unit on the mountain."

"Well," gurgled the beast "he obviously doesn't know how to control the Unit, being newborn, so I can take him."

"Idiot!" the girl snapped "Haven't you read the files, the armour is semi-sentient itself!" Disjointedly, she fumbled with her belt.

"So."

And with that both the beast and the red figure charged.

The girl just stood there. The shit had hit the fan.

--

As the figure and the beast collided, the beast let off a massive haymaker, catching the figure in the midsection and throwing him out the windows surrounding the dance floor and into the railing on the edge of the steamer. The wood and steel creaked under the torment but held up.

The passengers, who had huddled outside, fled to the far end of the boat.

The figure stood up shaking its head, more for the dramatic than any real reason. Standing, arms at its sides, it's flexed its shoulders. Two blades extended from the larger protrubances on its arms, the one on its left arm extending back towards the shoulder, the right, downwards, towards the deck. The blades seemed to hum, with a faint light shimmering on their surface. The figure stood, its blue eyes seeming to stare down the monster.

Ramotith made a come-hither motion with its clawed hand.

The figure assumed a stance reminiscent of a swordsman with a shield and charged.

--

Travis watched from the relative safety of the far end of the boat. The action was blurred through all the glass. Rei shook in his arms.

He looked down at her face, Hugo peering over his shoulder, concern evident.

"Rei?" asked Hugo

"Sean got thrown overboard," she said quietly, tears beginning to creep down her cheeks.

"Let's just hope the boy is okay." muttered Travis.

Glancing back towards the main deck, he noticed the figure of Kristen slowly shaking.

"Look out!" he yelled.

--

The armoured man collided with the beast, which made a retaliatory swipe with its claw at the figure's head. Raising his left arm and its accompanying shield blade to block the hand, the edge sliced through the beast's forearm, leaving a fountaining stump.

Screaming in rage, Ramotith kicked the legs out from under his opponent, who hit the deck with a muffled crash. Jump rising from a half crouch, the figure head butted the ape-thing in the chest, grazing its hide with the sharper side fins. Screaming the beast kneed the figure in the stomach, grabbed his back and threw him against a wall.

Standing the figure's eyes flashed, the left blade retracted and it charged with its right blade extended like a spear.

--

Kristen had stood there the whole time. Escape had crossed her mind but her superiors would kill her for leaving without the Unit. Ramotith was in trouble, and he was stronger than her. Either way she was dead. "Damn" she thought. "Might as well get this over with."

She was unsure who to be more scared off, the Unit or her superiors.

Beginning to shake, she initiated the change.

--

At the cry from Travis, one of the silvery orbs mounted on the figure's crown slid back, like a sensitive ear perking at an inaudible sound.

Moving with a speed only dreamt of by human combatants, the once-was-Kristen ran at the back of the figure. Ramotith had the arm with the blade caught by this one remaining hand and it was purely a battle of strength, as the red warrior pushed his blade towards the creature.

The figure quickly registered the new threat, planted its feet and swung its left arm back elbow first. The elbow caught its attacker in the midriff, where upon contact with its hide the figure extended the left arm blade, humming muffled as it bit into vital flesh.

The impaled beast stared in horror at the vibrating sword sticking in her stomach. The finned assailant shook her off and she fell backwards, her talons cupping her stomach.

Planting its feet and using its right arm and blade as a lever, the red figure hurled the ape beast over its head and onto the floorboards of the deck across the room, which splintered and buckled but help under the enormous pressure.

The red figure turned to face its foes, both prostrate. Looking down before itself, the bladed warrior saw its second attacker, a chameleon like monster with spikes on its head. Large bulging eyes looked up from the scaled face. Taking several slow steps forward the figure placed its armoured foot on one of the chameleon's knees and pushed down. The monster screamed as its knee was crushed to pulp.

"Rocies!" screamed the ape, lurching angrily to its feet. Dazed, it stumbled before righting itself.

Turning to the ape, once more the figure stepped forward, off the knee of Rocies and advanced towards Ramotith.

Rocies launched itself headfirst at the small of the figure's back, using its wiry arms as propulsion.

Ramotith charged.

Meeting both attacks like part of a well choreographed dance, the figure spun around and swung its right arm blade in a downward arc slicing Rocies head in half like a melon, as it raised a leg to connect with Ramotith jaw in a powerful heel kick.

Ramotith staggered upright staring in horrified rage as his partner bubbled and dissolved into the stained wood of the steamer's deck.

Again charging, unconcerned with the consequences, the ape-beast bellowed his fury.

Standing posed and unconcerned, the figure reached up to his chestplate. Grasping one side, it peeled it back to reveal a glowing sphere of energy crackling with azure power.

The monster saw this and lost its nerve, trying desperately to stop its dash. Sliding across the blood slick deck, the beast met the released energy beam like an asteroid does the sun.

--

"Shit!" yelled Travis

Everybody had begun leaping off the boat when the chest cavity had opened. The Captain had just about suffered a heart attack, then bellowed about the fact the figure was directly facing the furnace, and the ships fuel store.

Travis and the Captain were the last to leap overboard as the ship erupted into a blinding conflagration.

--

He awoke. His head hurt like hell. And his mouth tasted like sand.

He pulled himself up tentatively and realized that dawn was creeping slowly over the ranges to the east. He was on the shore of the lake. It was pretty much a blur as to why but suddenly he could remember seeing Zack's face and being thrown overboard, but only after he heard Rei scream. He must have blacked out after slamming into the chill lake.

Not surprising, his body was stiff.

Standing unsteadily, Sean looked down the lakeshore. The wharf the steamer had left from last night was about a kilometre away. A walk would loosen up his limbs anyway.

Reaching towards his shirt pocket, Sean grabbed his cigarettes. The soggy mass crumbled in his hand and landed in the sand with a plursh. "Oh well," he thought, "they taste worse everyday so maybe I should quit."

Looking back towards the wharf he noticed something wrong through the early morning brain fog. No boat. Looking out into the lake, he could see a smoking hull, burnt to the waterline.

"Fuck!" he cursed and left at a run towards the wharf.

--

Panting heavily, not being used to running Sean entered the foyer of the Copthorne. Ignoring the startled staff he made his way quickly to his suite.

Throwing the door open, he was shocked to see Rei packing his belongings, tears streaming down her cheeks. She hadn't heard the door.

"Rei?" he asked, confusion and concern in his voice.

She turned. Seeing him she screamed out and ran at him, burying her head in this chest and weeping loudly.

Travis and Hugo pounded down the corridor upon hearing Rei scream. Turning into the room they were stopped short by seeing their supposedly dead friend.

--

"And that dear boy is what happened." finished Travis.

Sean just sat there. Finally he said, "You're shittin me right?"

"No" replied his three companions together.

"And it was Zack and Kristen?" commented Sean.

"Uh huh" said Hugo.

"What did you tell the cops?" asked Sean.

"Nothing," replied the professor "the already said they knew it was a gas leak which caused the explosion. Most people were ready to believe that rather than the fact they saw monsters."

Sean put down his third cup of coffee. He had showered and eaten and now after three hours of discussion, had heard the events of last night retold from all three points of view. He had been right about the Americans, that they couldn't be trusted and where hiding something. It just turned out to be something monstrous.

An idea struck him.

"I'm gonna go look through there stuff. Obviously the cops assume them to have been caught in the explosion with the woman and man that they killed."

"Good idea," said Travis.

"Want some help?" asked Hugo.

"Nah, you guys get some rest, I've worried you enough already."

"But Sean you..." Rei didn't finish her statement before Sean had left.

--

Why had he done that? Flicked them off like that. They genuinely cared about him, something increasingly rare in the world they lived in.

He couldn't explain it, but he simply needed to do this alone. He felt compelled to do it alone.

--

Entering the suite they had shared, Sean saw the clothes they had arrived in yesterday strewn across the floor. Walking over to the backpack nearest him, he opened the pouches on the sides and top and ran his hands through them.

Nothing.

Opening the main part, he rummaged down through clothes. Feeling a hard case of some sort, he pulled it out, spilling clothing onto the floor. The case resembled a laptop computer. Expecting it to be what it looked like; Sean opened it to find two empty foam holders, which would by their definitive shape hold the guns the others had described nicely.

Moving to the other pack he noticed a laptop computer in a wastepaper basket. Its parts were hanging out the cracks in its casing. It looked like it had been smashed against the floor.

Opening the top of the second pack, he found a device similar to the one the pair had been looking at on the mountain. Turning it over, he saw a switch. He turned it on. It beeped at him, seemingly unimpressed.

--

"Signal has been activated Sir, and its readings indicate the proximity of a Guyver Unit."

"Excellent, patch into the co-ordinates, telecommunications, via all mediums of digital interface."

--

Sean was looking at the steadily beeping device, confusion written across his face. It looked like that dragon radar thing from Dragon Ball Z. It kept beeping at him though, as if accusing him of something, which was mildly disconcerting.

The television crackled to life.

Sean looked up to see a shrouded figure.

"Weird," muttered Sean.

"No it's not, merely the use of technology not presently available on the free market."

"Huh?" said Sean, looking at the floor and the scattered clothing, thinking he had stood on the remote control.

"Really? Do you think it possible you could vocalize in words of one syllable or more?"

"You talkin to me?" said Sean, still not up to speed with the televised conversationalist.

"You are the only one here besides myself are you not?"

"Errr yeah..."

"Excellent. Well, enough small talk. We want the Unit."

Now this got Sean thinking. Unit. The others had mentioned those monsters wanting some sort of unit. Now this guy as well.

Sean had to ask, "What are you talking about?"

"Come now. We know you have it, the readings indicate that you have activated it and obviously since both Ramotith and Rocies are no longer viable, you have used it."

"I don't know what the hell you're on about."

"The innocent routine is beginning to bore me, Mr. Barker."

"How the fuck do you know my name!" Sean, by this stage, was starting to get annoyed.

"Call it a gift. Give us the unit Guyver, it will be better off for all concerned if you did so."

"What the fuck is Guyver. And the only Unit around here is you TV-man, and it's a loose one at that."

"You are."

"This channel sucks." and with that Sean, fed up with the accusatory broadcast, unplugged the television.

The stereo across the room crackled to life.

"Really Guyver, you are no match for us."

Sean, who was now very confused and getting angrier by the sentence, looked at the device in his hand. He dropped it to the floor.

"Fuck you, Max Headroom. Coke did itself a number with you as spokesman."

The device was crushed easily under Sean's boot.

--

Retiring to his room, Sean took off his shirt and boots and lay down on the bed. Four words rang in his head - Guyver, Unit, Ramotith and Rocies. The conversation with the psychotic anchorman had upset Sean more than he liked. It had known his name. It had threatened him. These thoughts plaguing him, he slowly fell into a troubled sleep.

--

Snort.

Sean swatted at his face as he felt something on his nose. Opening his eyes and flapping his arms, the pressure released his nose. It was Rei.

"Well now that you are awake, we can eat and head off to Tarawera."

"Is it day already," asked Sean

"Yes it is Sleeping Beauty," said Hugo, who sat at Sean's table eating breakfast, "you've been out since lunch yesterday."

Sean sat up and scratched his head, making his hair stand up even more. He didn't see Rei glancing at him, a worried expression on her young face.

Walking to the table and sculling a glass of orange juice, Sean entered the bathroom and shut the door.

When steadily running water could be heard Hugo said to Rei "Don't worry he'll be fine. Everyone has nightmares now and then."

--

Mount Tarawera loomed above them. The shattered ragged scar was an angry red and used its nineteen-kilometre length to dominate the horizon. While the eruption in 1886 may have destroyed the pink and white terraces, its still drew tourists.

Standing looking at its foreboding presence and the evidence of its rampage over a century ago, the group felt humbled and small next to nature's raw fury.

Travis got their attention and they wandered over to join the tour group, loosely gathered by the main park office. Once everyone was assembled, the tour guide introduced herself as Kelly and proceeded to regale them with fact and history about the dormant volcano.

The professor and his students paid little attention, off in their own heads while the tourists lapped up the information like overeager children.

--

Away from the group, a plainly dressed older man spoke hurriedly into his cellular phone.

"Yes we came to intercept him to make sure he doesn't discover the nearby testing grounds and that the evidence given in the beta readings is supported."

Some comment from the other end of the phone made the man pale slightly.

"Indeed it appears to be active."

A short sentence was spoken, which resulted in the older man's head nodding.

"Yes sir, we will kill him and remove the medal before he can biomorph."

The next comment obviously worried the older man as he swallowed harshly and sweat began to bead on his forehead. His finger pulled at his shirt collar, loosening it.

"Yes sir. Gregole out"

--

The trek up the crater wall was a well-mapped out course that had been followed by tourists since before the Second World War. Sean was only half listening to the tour guide. He had liked geography at school so he had paid attention, and being taught in New Zealand they had covered Tarawera and its history.

The tour guide signalled a halt as they drew to a good vantage point and she indicated that the mountains of Ruapehu, Ngaruahoe and Tongariro could be seen in the distance.

Sean looked off in that direction only half interested, still obsessing about the events in the American's suite yesterday. That and he had had enough of Ruapehu to last some time.

"Excuse me," a hand tapped his shoulder.

Turning around, Sean's throat was grabbed by a scaled monstrosity, the bastard child of a rhinoceros and the Incredible Hulk. Behind Sean's antagonist stood a creature who looked like the monster his friends had described Kristen changing to, except this one looked like a frilled lizard from Australia, horned ridges all over its head, and another, some sort of half-breed lobster-armadillo cross.

"Ckrrraph!" choked Sean.

At his outburst, the guide turned around and screamed. No way was she paid enough for this sort of shit. She jumped off the trail and slid down the scree slope. Most of the tourist party followed suit. Travis, Hugo and Rei however were backed slowly down the trail by the frilled lizard-man.

"Bit far from home? Ay mate?" said Hugo

The creature half-heartedly swung at his head. His orders were to terrorize these three not hurt them. That sucked in his opinion, yet the Lords had decreed that any activity must have terrestrial reasoning, cause and effect, like a natural gas leak causing hallucinations.

Maybe a tramping accident resulting in a fall, he mused...

--

Sean's world seemed to slow down. Everything went cloudy at the edges as his throat contracted under the pressure being administered by the rhino man. Sean felt detached.

Suddenly he felt another presence. A will not his own yet buried deep in his mind, asleep. Sean being half out of it couldn't really contemplate it as the separate will begin to fight for it's, his - their very survival.

--

Sean could feel it now, like under Ruapehu, the violation both mentally and physically, yet it passed, becoming a sense of oneness with the alien sentience. Curlers and trails of pink and maroon lightening raced through his veins as the exo-skeletal form of the parasitic being meshed to his skin, enveloping him in a shield of bio kinetic power, pushing away all impediments to its awakening.

--

The rhino screamed as his arm was seared off at the elbow and a half of his chest was vaporized in the powerful backlash of kinesis.

--

Travis's jaw slackened and he pointed to Sean. "Look!"

His awestruck tone broached no argument from his students or the monster that herded them as they all turned to see Sean being engulfed in a searing light.

When the light faded, the figure from the boat stood over the crippled and bleeding form of the rhino man.

"Giles! Gregole" screamed the armadillo hybrid. "Attack."

A powerful frog jump from the lizard man, Giles, sent him into the back of the armoured figure, both of them tumbling down into a heap.

The rhino man staggeringly got to his feet, his chest wound leaking blood and his arm stump draped across the wound, holding his lung in. Snorting in rage he charged the grappling duo of the red figure and Giles.

The armoured being and Giles had each other in wrestling type grips, hands on shoulders and upper arms, each attempting to overpower the other. The silver head orbs on the fin-man flickered back in their cranial grooves. The red figure quickly released its hold on Giles and jumped straight up. Taking advantage of the momentary confusion on his adversary's part, the figure performed a half spin, placed his hand on the top of Giles' head and travelled over. Mid leap, the figure placed his feet on the monster's shoulderblades pushing forward with a powerful locking of its knee's.

The Giles monster went horn first through the wound inflicted on Gregole, who looking shocked and confused, falling to earth, a gaping hole in his chest. Dead, as his flesh began to melt, horror transfixed in his bestial eyes.

Before the Giles could wipe the restricting viscera from his eyes the finned warrior placed it in a headlock and with the other hand grabbed it's horn. The popping of vertebrae was audible as the figure pulled the head off the lizard beast.

The one further up the slope growled under its breath. Lobster-man.

"Guyver!" it bellowed, "I am Delcasse, know my name for it shall be your death."

The monster then opened its claws revealing small spheres similar to the ones the group had witnessed the figure use on the Lakeland Queen two nights previous, the swirling balls refracting light onto its talonesque claws.

Hugo, Travis and Rei all dropped to the ground and covered their heads with their arms.

--

Sean watched on from inside his head in horrified disbelief as he, they, it waded through these creatures like they were nothing.

--

Travis poked his head up. The monster was still charging his weapons and seemed to be fully concentrating on this. The figure that was Sean stood there intently, seemingly undergoing some sort of mental battle.

Suddenly a pair of beams erupted from the small silver ball high on the figure's forehead, above the glittering third eye. Each hit one of the spheres of energy in the monster's claws, erupting the focused power like planetary meltdown.

Its forearms exploded as it screamed in agony. Falling to its knees the creature looked up to see the figure looking down at it, its motion almost too fast to comprehend.

"Curse you Guyver!" the monster hissed.

The figure grasped its face and squeezed.

--

The red armour disappeared like it was floodwaters receding, revealing a dazed Sean who slumped to his knees, the power having left him weak, confused and with many questions.

The trio climbed up off the rocks and walked towards their friend.

Hearing them, Sean looked up, a haunted look on his face, pain, fear and self-loathing combined. He was like a child, lost and scared in the night.

Reaching her hand out to him, Rei could sense his pain.

Shaking his head, pain in his blue eyes, Sean jumped off the track and slid down the slope.

--

Sean sat looking into the waterfall. He found the idea of a spirit living in it fascinating. Focusing on that allowed him to forget what he couldn't understand.

A hand gently placed itself on his shoulder.

He turned his tearstained face to see Rei, there beside him. Over her shoulder he could see Hugo and Travis.

"What, who, ...I'm sorry," said Sean. Even that much was a struggle.

Rei took him in a light embrace and placed his head against her shoulder, crying softly herself.

--

Sean was asleep. He had crashed out after they had arrived back at the resort. He had smoked nearly all of Travis' cigarettes in the van, normally a no go, but it seemed to help him calm down. The others had made idle chatter.

Now late at night, the three discussed what they knew, at least from witnessing it twice, if not from concrete proof.

"So Sean is this thing, erm, what did you hear them call it Travis?"

"Guyver." said Travis bluntly. Something here troubled him.

Rei was silent.

"What can we do?" she said after a moment's hesitation, her words shaky but heartfelt.

"Be there for him I suppose," said Travis sipping his scotch, "and let him deal with it in his own time."

Nothing more was said about it. That was really all that they could do.

--

Rei stood before Sean's door. Check out was in thirty minutes time so she had been sent to wake him. She had stood out here for about another five. They had decided to let him sleep as long as possible all things considered. Finally collecting the courage to knock, she tapped the door lightly. It silently swung open.

He was not in the bed and the bathroom door was open. His bags were gone.

A small envelope sat on the dining room table.

Rei crossed quickly to it, her heart in her mouth. She opened the envelope.

It read:

Guys,

I have gone back to Auckland. I will probably see you at the University this afternoon. Will try and explain then. Even though I don't really understand this myself. I'm scared. Everything is so fucked up.

Sean.

Rei crushed the note in her hand and ran out of the room. He had avoided the issue entirely, making no mention of it. Rei was worried; this sort of thing couldn't just be brushed aside. Something was about to happen. Call it woman's intuition, or whatever, but it sat in her stomach like a lead ball.

--

Part Four

Home Is Where The Hurt Is

--

"I feel angry, I feel helpless

Want to change the world

I feel violent, I feel alone

Don't try and change my mind"

Creed - "One" - My Own Prison

--

He stepped off the bus, as it halted in the centre of Auckland City. Catching the early bus had been a good idea. He felt now that he couldn't deal with all the questions and understanding, especially after another dream tormented night.

Pulling his bag onto his shoulder, he set off towards his flat.

Luckily the walk wasn't far. The main bus depot in Central Auckland was also a terminal for the all inner city lines. Sean had only had to wait ten minutes before a bus going by his place left. The entire ride was consumed with fear about his unknown situation and what trouble it would cause him. So far each day had been on par and bogeyed, worse than the one before.

--

Sean looked up at the flat before him. It was a simple suburban house; rent split between three students who had all lived here for over a year. His flatmates, Raoul and Ellis, had won the money with him on their joint lottery ticket. They had decided to buy the place outright as flatmates. Sean had remained the only rent paying party in attendance, preferring to pay off his student loan in full, than have the debt over his head.

Unlocking the door and flinging his backpack onto the couch he bellowed, a silly grin moving across his face, "Lucy, I'm home!"

Neither Raoul nor Ellis answered.

Sean wandered down the hallway, banging on the wall "Ladies time to get up!"

Still no answer. The atmosphere was almost like the aftermath of a party, empty and hollow where noise and abundance had once reigned.

Opening the door to Ellis' room, he was greeted by the darkness and dust motes floating in the shafts of light punching through the curtains. Not there.

Raoul's room? An incense stick was burning. Well that meant they couldn't be far off, considering that Ellis had nearly kicked Raoul out when he set the couch on fire last year. The pair had made up quickly however.

Sean went into the bathroom and ran the shower.

Road trips always made him feel gritty. A hot shower and a change of clothes would be a good start to tackling a day that didn't seem to be giving up on Sean Barker. Then, possibly a good feed.

--

The bathroom door opened and Sean walked down the hall into his room.

Changed and refreshed, he wondered where the others were and yelled out to see if they were back yet. Sean scratched his head and wandered towards the main area of the house, but, walking out into the lounge, he still got no answer.

This was because his flatmates were in no position to answer. They were lying on the floor, dead, agony written in their staring vacant eyes. Sean's mouth dropped open in shock.

--

Beep.

Beep.

Sean turned from the grisly sight and looked towards the sound. A device, similar to the one he had destroyed in Zack and Kristen's hotel suite, was sitting on the counter, like a malignant pimple.

The TV flicked on. The shrouded figure sat there mocking Sean with his laughter.

Sean fell to his knees, hands covering his ears.

Utter disbelief.

"Well Mr. Barker, do you believe me now?"

"Who are you? What do you want?" The blonde man wailed, tormented more in days than most would be in a lifetime.

"The unit, Mr. Barker, or should I call you Guyver?"

Sean sat there hunched over, panic and a rising disbelief, like nausea shattering his reason.

The mocking laughter of the figure rattled through his reality.

The television exploded as Sean's fist shattered the tube.

Sean, realising that his anger had escaped him, stared mutely at his bloody fist.

He crouched there shaking with anger and grief.

--

In the space of three days, Sean's life had been shattered. The fabric of logic and reality had been unravelled and placed in a tapestry of discord and chaos. Sean had been through mental illness before. His grasp on the reins must have slipped. There is no man in the television out to get him, there are no monsters, and he certainly didn't watch from the passenger seat of his mind as his body was enveloped in an armour sheathe and proceeded to destroy and brutally rip apart aforementioned monsters.

No. That didn't happen at all.

The mocking sarcasm in his mind tormented him like it was the irrefutable truth that the world had turned to shit.

None of this is real; it was all a bad dream. Yet opening his eyes, Sean saw the blood and the nightmare remained. He couldn't wake up.

--

Sean's rational psyche screamed at him, something was missing in this little phantasm.

The answer phone bleeped at him.

Sean fell onto his rear and pushed himself into a corner, whimpering that the voice was back for him, to strip his reality away some more.

Not a bad voice, but a good voice, yes, Mother.

"Sean could you please call me when you get back from down south. Your sister called..."

Almost automatic Sean placed his shaking finger on the fast forward key. The machine jumped and recited the date. Yesterday. His mind took down details in a detached fashion, like he was watching some detective show on his now seemingly possessed television. First up, the blood on the floor and walls hadn't congealed yet so the guys hadn't been dead long. Second was the fact that the message was still on the machine, meaning the guys had gotten home late from wherever they were. Third...

Sean was pulling on his boots and grabbing the keys to Ellis' motorcycle before he could think of a third reason.

The only thought in his head was of his parents. And how his day was just getting worse, and it hadn't even really started.

--

It couldn't be.

The same scene. Intensified. His mind screamed and gibbered at him. But one glance and his remaining shreds of reality fluttered away. He turned away the tears burning his eyes. Numbed and shaken, he moved to the telephone and dialled the number.

"Emergency Services. What service do you require, fire, police or medical?" The deep voice asked seemingly disinterested.

"Police," whispered Sean, trying to get to grips with this and to be as accurate as he could.

"Ah yes, Mr. Barker is it?" The voice was now full of contempt and malice.

"What?" This couldn't be happening. No, not at all.

"We want what you have." It appeared that it could be happening and would continue to, no matter how much Sean willed it wouldn't.

"Why are you doing this?" Sean rasped.

"Because we want the armour." Seemingly a simple request, yet coupled with the carnage and bloodshed, the answer was a given. Sean's rampaging thoughts didn't pick it up, but there was no way in hell these fuckers would get shit from him now.

Sean now moderately aware, re-hinged his sanity with a pumping mixture of endorphines and rage. Screaming down the phone at his tormenter "You think I wanted this? I don't want this! I don't even know what it is! Fuck you!"

"Deliver it to us Barker. The Devonport Ferry Terminal. Downtown Auckland. Ten o'clock this evening."

The phone clicked off.

Sean looked blankly at the receiver. His eye's unfocusing he ripped it from the wall and hurled it across the room.

--

The sun had set five hours ago, yet he had no rest, images flitting through his brain, the death he had witnessed today and the mayhem he had delivered yesterday rolling in his mind like a stormy sea.

He felt detached now, as if no pain could invade his bubble and if it had, it would have been devoured by his rage.

He stood, light blue jeans and dark grey turtleneck under a black trenchcoat. For some reason he had taken it from his father's closet. It seemed to be fitting, a dark shroud to honour the dead.

The town car pulled up slowly to the gates. Sean had climbed over between breaks in the traffic yet had seen no security. He felt a gnawing in his stomach, like things were too highly stacked against him, and all the trump cards kept ending up in his opponent's hand.

A well-built man, dark haired, emerged from the back of the car, his business suit well fitting over his muscular form. Sean felt the hair on his neck rise at the sight of the man. Something decidedly wrong hovered about him.

The figure stopped five metres from Sean's concealed form. It casually lit a cigarette and puffed on it lazily. It was a stand off.

"Do you plan to stare at me all evening Mr. Barker?"

"Depends if you put on a show or not." Sean jibbed; not growing anymore enthused with his situation as the time passed.

The figure chuckled and took another drag on its cigarette.

Sean stepped from the shadows. The figure stepped back slightly. Sean was not a pretty sight, his face drawn and haggard, his stubbled hair darkening his already impressive jawline.

"I hope we haven't upset you too much Mr. Barker, you look quite the worse for wear." No concern there, a mocking self-satisfaction maybe.

"Just ditch the bullshit and let's cut to the chase, eh? You want this thing and I want answers."

"Very well Mr. Barker, but you are in no position for negotiations. We require the unit and you have it. It's a simple matter of trade. Give it to us or we take it. Either way the outcome on your part is fatal, just at varying degrees."

"First though, I want to know why? Why all this stuff, why didn't you just get the damn thing yourselves, send those punk fuck-ups Zack and Kristen to play fetch?"

"Well, Mr. Barker, I really don't see that the whys and wherefores would have any relevance to you. It was simply a matter of wrong place, wrong time on your part."

"Fuck relevance, you pencil-necked bourgeois toady, my family and friends are dead! Dead by your hands!" The rage in Sean's voice startled the man, but it wasn't unexpected. People did tend to get upset when you killed off their loved ones.

"Sorry about that old chap," the suit said, "its just a standard business practice. Figures predict it's easy to deal with grieving people, and killing their families has a more pronounced effect than just killing friends. Although killing those two fags' gave me some measure of satisfaction." Another lazy drag on the cigarette.

--

Sean stood there taking this in. The figure said it coldly, like it was a daily occurrence. Simply like checking one's email or eating breakfast.

Sean heard the word, louder and louder in his head. The voice on television had called him it, as had those animal farm rejects up the slopes of Tarawera. The word echoed through his brain like a brushfire through tinder, fanned by the awakening of the other, deep in his senses.

- Guyver -

- Guyver -

- Guyver -

Intense, it blasted his mind, consumed his thoughts and coupled with the rage he had nurtured through his grief. Faster and faster it came, until it was but an audible hum in the ear of his mind.

- Guyver -

- GUYVER -

Sean simply gave in.

"Guy-ver!" he whispered, teeth clenched in fury.

White fire engulfed his body and rejuvenated his senses. Comfort surrounded him, granting him the focus he needed, fuelling his ravaged body with alien power.

--

"Did your precious number's predict THIS, you fucker!" screamed Sean.

The armour materialized as Sean made a downward punching motion, lightening fast, his right hand connecting with the man's chest in a sizzle as his vibrating blade cleaved the officious bastard in two, like a boiled chicken.

The man, staring down at the cut the had split him from crown to crotch, mumbled though the gushing blood and the haze of encroaching death, "No, that I didn't see coming."

Boneless, the man fell to the ground, both halves sliding hideously in the spilled offal.

--

Blood dripped from the right arm blade, catching the moonlight.

Looking at the rapidly dissolving body Sean was snapped from his position of silent contemplation by the squealing of tires.

"Oh no you don't, bitch!" he yelled at the driver, as the town car peeled out of the loading bay in a tight U-turn and headed back up the street.

Sean began to run, the desire for answers and vengeance fuelling his speed.

The gates just collapsed in a ruin of twisted wire and piping as he ran through them and after the speeding automobile, his armoured feet leaving small heel-toe prints in the asphalt.

--

He was amazed, he wasn't tired, when usually running a mere hundred metres left him winded and puffing like a bellows. Ahead of him, the dark car swerved into the main street and was lost in traffic.

"Damn" he hissed, stopping at the intersection, halfway into the thoroughfare, with car's braking to a stop, horns honking indignantly and heads popping out window's to stare at him.

Seeing the car turn off ahead of him to retrace back to its original course, Sean leapt over a passing station wagon and picked up his pace.

It had disappeared. Sean needed to find some vantage point and fast. The armour murmured in his mind, responding to the unvoiced mental command. It didn't understand the thoughts but it understood the need.

Sean found himself slowly rising, the feeling imprinting itself on his mind. Some fifty feet up, the sensation of rising faded and the weightless buoyancy of flight was achieved. "There!" He said, triumphant, and with the speed of neuro-transmission, the suit responded.

He had the bastard now. He was just ahead of him and pulling into a parking garage. Sean followed with his eyes and set down lightly on a rooftop with a clear view of the parking exit.

He chuckled quietly. This suit was an enigma. It was almost like an extension of his will, funnelling power to do what he wanted. Yet it raped him every time it awoke, soiling his mind with alien imagery. Unwanted but somehow almost addictive.

--

The driver exited the parking garage quietly, and quickly, glancing left and right but not up. He ran towards the imposing Sky Tower, its architectural pinnacle like a mountain amongst the skyscrapers. Sticking to well lit streets, the driver seemed edgy and paranoid, uncertain of his fate, however it ended up being delivered.

The figure on the rooftop, bounded nimbly building to building after him, intrigued and curious. The driver was prepared now for something. To attack would negate the element of surprise and move the game out of Sean's field of play. So he watched in detached study.

The figure entered the lobby of the casino, slowing its pace. It greeted the desk staff and said something to which the head guy nodded. The figure then went towards the elevators, his movement slowly betraying the fact his confidence was returning.

The red figure watched quietly through the glass roof, then jumping floor by floor up the building, it looked down the main hallways to see where the elevator stopped its ascent. And opened. Thirteenth floor. Ding.

The figure left the elevator, looked around furtively and ran toward a suite. Fumbling with the keys, and dropping them twice, he finally managed to open the door.

The red form of Sean Barker, moved quickly around the side of the building, hugging the parapet like a tightrope and with an almost supernatural quality, blended with the shadows.

--

The man had entered his suite. He looked quite shaken, which was in essence, because he was. The plan had been royally screwed by that bumbler Enzyme. Strange that all cases of integration with that type initiated tendencies ranging from sociopathic right down the line to retarded.

The plan had been to transform, startling the already shocked Barker, in his misery and grief, wait for him or the unit to activate itself, then rip the metal from his forehead. The top brass had assumed that Barker couldn't have formed a bond with the parasitic organism this quickly.

They had underestimated him.

Now, Enzyme was dead. And he had no way of getting the metal without being annihilated. They trained and breed them for loyalty. Stupidity was often, especially in the more combat orientated operatives, a side effect. He had managed to avoid that defect, part of what he was.

He took a quick swig from the decanter on the sideboard and opened the laptop. It immediately patched a satellite uplink to headquarters.

A shrouded form appeared. A very familiar shape. The dead voice carried well in the still night.

"Report Razell"

"Sir, the subject destroyed Enzyme and appears to have control of the bio boosting unit, at least to some extent. The subject was prepared and struck before an attack could be mounted."

The figure on the other end of the video link looked agitated. "Cursed Type 1 failure, with their damned bio-organic degradation." he said half to himself, then realising his subordinate was still present, continued. "It appears he has discovered the unit's capabilities. Do you have any more details that may be of use?"

"We performed the tactical elimination as planned and followed standard practice, fingering him for the crimes. But rather than attack directly, Enzyme insisted on the later meeting. He was destroyed before he was able to transform as planned and perform the extraction. The subject appeared to get annoyed with him and yelled prior to striking Enzyme in the chest and splitting him up the middle."

"What did the subject say?" The voice seemed interested in not only the Unit itself but also in its interaction with its human host. Razell shuddered subconsciously. It was said that the Lord before him had odd interests and pleasures, half-whispered rumours of diabolical genetic enhancements and dissection upon existing operatives that displeased him.

"I believe it was, and this is verbatim mind - predict this you fucker."

The shrouded figure chuckled. "It appears our Mr. Barker is a spitfire. Excellent. Maintain surveillance and proceed with the usual business strategy. Eliminate the remaining members of their expedition and notify the installation of any developments and have evidence gained shipped there immediately."

"Yes my Lord!"

The laptop switched off, the bluish glaze disappearing from the room.

The man, Razell, walked into the bathroom, shaking his head. The sound of running water was heard and the door closed.

He didn't notice the figure crouched outside his window, nor see the glass spark as the partially extended sword bit through it.

--

Razell exited the bathroom, robe on and towelling his hair dry. He was stringy man, thin and vulturish in appearance. His damp hair clung about his face like dead straw.

"Martini, old boy?" The voice was almost a whisper, punctuated by the sharp emission of steam.

Razell dropped the towel and stared in horror towards the armchair, that held two glowing blue pinpoints of light. Steam vented from below them with an ominous hiss.

"Guyver? Barker!"

"Top marks old boy, do you want that drink or not."

"What do you want?"

"Several million dollars, a big house and a white picket fence, but there are something's that we can only dream about. I would also like to spend time with family, but seen as you took that away from me, I'll settle for information and maybe your life."

"Well come and get it then," mouthed the man as the skin on his forearms erupted with razor sharp ridges, and his feet split into huge two toed claws. His forehead sprouted mandibles and feelers popped out of his mouth while his skin slipped off along with the robe. Now there was no backing down from the fight they both knew was coming.

Razell looked like a bug.

"Raid!" yelled Sean as his fist crunched into Razell's eye. Sean mercilessly pounded the creature with his fists and knees, launching his attack before the creature had fully morphed. The monster swung its claws raking then across Sean's armoured chest and face.

Stepping back out of range Sean grinned (although his opponent couldn't see it). Razell looked at the Guyver with his segmented eyes and readied himself to proceed.

"Shall we tango some more?" cracked Sean, sensing the fear streaming off the creature.

"UUURarrrgh" screamed Razell pouncing, connecting with Sean mid-level roundhouse kick and flying back to crash into the wall. Plaster cracked and a panel fell from the wall. White dust alighted over the monster's form, the flakes congealing in Razell's blood.

Sitting against the wall, Razell had his throat grabbed by a red armoured fist, his head slamming into the support stud. "Now care to talk," hissed the Guyver.

Razell spat.

"Now that's just impolite," said Sean, condescendingly as he smashed his armoured fist into the bug-monster's side.

This seemed to be the last straw for the bug who managed to spit away some ichor and form words out of his beaten face. "Listen whelp, you have no idea do you? Why they want the unit, what the armour is? That we are all as good as dead, so we might as well go quietly! Don't you know their power!"

"Tell me then sweetheart." commented Sean as he blocked a series of disjointed punches the insect threw at him.

"No, Guyver I don't think I will, you see, you may let me go, but my superiors won't. And I fear their powers more than I fear yours."

This was something Barker hadn't contemplated. "You want me to kill you?" He stood there.

"No," said the bug, "if I have a choice I want me to kill you!" Using this momentary lapse in defense Razell sunk its claws around the silver orb in Sean's forehead. Screaming in pain, Sean swung his right arm, blade distended, upward close to his body, slicing his assailant's arms off.

Staggering back the monster laughed at Sean. "Guyver," it croaked "you can't win! I'll die but there will be more. Hundreds upon thousands more!"

Moving in a closed lunged, Sean's blade sunk into the creature's chest up to his fist. Kicking the creature off and through the glass ranch slider and onto the balcony behind them, Sean could feel the glass raining down on his shoulders.

Razell, his bravado seeping away like so much blood, again said, "We - will beat you, Guyver!"

"Your main concern is landing, buttrag." Said Sean as he connected a massive haymaker to the monster's chin, sending it out and over the railing.

Watching silently as the dead husk descended to street level, Sean turned angrily and stepped over the frame of the sliding door. Where he had hoped for answers he had found only more questions.

--

Due to his physical makeup, a common trend with all his brethren, all of Razell that made it to street level was a few drops of blood. He had died as soon as Sean punched him, his jawbone stirring his brain, triggering the accelerated genetic decomposition. Several patches of ash wafted away on an errant breeze.

--

The red armoured figure stood in the shattered suite of the Sky Tower Hotel and Casino, murmuring to itself. "Guyver?" it mused. "Name kind of grows on you." then with more force, probing testing, like a child poking a wasp's nest with a stick. "Guyver!" The armour melted away.

Sean looked around the damaged room. Small manila folders full of files and the laptop computer seemed the only personal effects in the room. The files seemed almost empty and most likely would be from the picture the creature had painted; yet they intrigued Sean with the promise of knowledge. Slowly moving towards the sealed documents, the names on the folders became quite clear, one, Guyver - Capabilities, the other, Guyver - Known History.

"Excellent." said Sean grasping the folders and the computer, before moving towards the back window he had first entered. He tentatively recalled the armour, expecting to wake from the dream. Morbidly satisfied that it worked on some sort of mental or verbal command, he left through the window as security personnel and police officers kicked in the door.

--

"The remote terminal is being moved Sir. Labelling of the bio-signature indicates it is not one of our agents or hired operatives."

"Marvellous," replied the shrouded figure, "The small amount of information we have given him plus the history and background files may lead us to the other active units via his movements."

"Further orders, Sir?" The man wore a combat suit similar to that of both Kristen and Zack. His padding as a gold colour however, and he addressed the shrouded figure with less fear, but not a total absence of it. Being wary of anyone in the organization was smart, as was showing token, if not full gratification to its Lords.

"Continue monitoring. I want reports every six hours." The shrouded figure leaned back in its deeply recessed chair.

"Understood Sir."

--

For disclaimers and authors notes and such, please see Part 2

By Nicholas Clark (Warriorsong)


	2. Chapter 2

Evolution

**Evolution**

R E V E R S I O N E D

A Guyver Bio-Booster Armour Fan Fiction

By Nicholas Paul Clark (Warriorsong)

--

_Life…_

_An Infinite Energy_

--

"At the dawn of Creation, The Gods arrived on Earth,

Now, we shall know their awful legacy and how it affects Mankind."

--

Part Five

Mitigating Circumstances

--

"When you're through with life and all hope is lost,

Hold out your hand cos friends will be friends,

Right till the end"

Queen - "Friends Will Be Friends" - A Kind of Magic

--

Admittedly some of the blanks had been filled in. Sean now knew what this unit thing was, and some of its capabilities. He also knew where to start looking for more answers.

Tokyo.

That was a fair way off.

However, in his eyes, the information had been far too easy to acquire. Maybe it was a misspent youth filled of action movies and novels, but the police could very simply have caught him before he leapt from the window of the Sky City Hotel. The information in the files filled in the grey areas yet only with enough information to give some clarity. A sinking feeling had accompanied the fact that certain words and phrases were obviously omitted, and this added to his doubt and a consistent gnawing that he was being fed this for some purpose. Most likely one he would not appreciate in the long term.

From a dark all-night coffee bar in a seedy backstreet (more of an alley really), Sean had pored over the notes, running back over them when he hit an omission and slowly a realization had dawned.

Whatever this thing inside him was, it was beyond any conspiracy theory all the crackpots in the world could have coughed up. Combined.

The 'Capabilities' file had outlined the basic abilities of the unit. The blades that were housed in the forearms - called vibration swords, or just vibration blades, were organic constructs which vibrated at such a high frequency as to enable them to cut through almost any substance. The forehead laser was simply that, a head laser. The chest's covered energy beam, labelled as a "Mega Smasher", was a high-energy particle cannon, capable of atomizing both organic and inorganic particles with varying success.

While this was interesting, as it was, it was excess to requirements, as he had witnessed these capabilities in action, even before he knew what he was doing. It was simply clarifying existing knowledge. Almost like they were giving him information that couldn't hurt them. There was nothing about the anti-gravitation capabilities he had discovered earlier that evening, nor the stark black and white images that had overlaid his dreams since the mountain.

'Known History', the second file simply consisted of four sets of paper stapled together. Each set of information contained a pair of photographs. The first photograph in each series was of a different Guyver Unit, as far as he could deduct, having only seen his own transformation in badly refracted light. The figure's consisted of what looked to be exoskeletal armour; each surmounted with some type of ridge or horned terminus on the crown and blades on each forearm. The arrangement of blades and fins seemed to differ with each photograph, as did the colouration of the armour itself. Sky blue-grey, dark neon purple-black and even a luminous gold. And these photographs were grainy at best, as if taken from a distance and with the subject in motion.

The second image in each series was of a man, most likely the wearer of said Unit. The last paper in each set contained some personal data on each man, such as name, designated unit and last known sphere of operation.

First was a designated 'Guyver I', a Sho Fukamachi, student, about eighteen or so years old. The young man was clearly Japanese by his picture and while the image was of a slightly younger figure in a school uniform, the haunted look in his eyes carried over onto the paper before Sean. The personal data revealed very little other than the Unit was deemed hostile and should not be engaged under any circumstances. It was surreal in a sense, like those most wanted shows where the police knew more than they let on in order to trip the criminal up or trap him in his own belief of their ignorance.

Designate 'Guyver II', a man named Oswald A. Risker. The man looked old, his features a distilled mix of Japanese and European. The cool way the figure carried itself in the image spoke volumes to the man's arrogance and self-righteousness. It detailed that he had worked for the company (another frustrating blank that appeared whenever the organisation behind all this was mentioned) for several years and was a skilled martial artist and company detective. This man however was classed as deceased, and the unit as being unrecovered.

Third, Agito Makishima, a year or so older than Fukamachi. This was 'Guyver III'. Also under the alias of Zeus, whatever that meant. The photograph held Sean's attention for some time. The eyes in the photograph, something about then, it set an edge in Sean's chin and made him want to look away, but the picture held him. The young man before him, clad in an identical uniform to Fukamachi, was dangerous. In the infectious and crippling disease kind of way. There was a darkness here...

The personnel file was mostly blanks and black marks, like the wearer of the dark armour had an equally dark history.

Sean shrugged the feeling aside and began to flick back through the previous two entries. All three had or were last operating out of Tokyo. Enough information to pique his interest, but not overly much more that he already knew. And then this company, organisation or whatever behind it all, blanks and almost lexicon words, obscuring the real name. It was the hand that was feeding him, leading him on blindly to save itself from being bitten.

The fourth file was less thumbed over, its pages crisp and clear. The small manila folder simply had the roman digit 'V' emblazoned on its cover. Sean turned the page, and stopped in horror at what he saw.

--

Now, just after nine in the morning, Sean had entered the grounds of the University of Auckland City, heading towards the offices of the Head's of Faculty, specifically the office of Professor Travis.

He needed to clarify what was happening, check on his friends and be around people he knew were his friends and not false allies and hidden enemies. It had begun to seem the world was that way when he had careened out of the dingy coffee shop at six am, paled faced and his sweaty hands clasping the folders under his arm.

Walking calmly towards the receptionist, Sean quietly asked her if Professor Travis was in his office yet.

She replied that yesterday afternoon, a telephone call had been received from the Professor, saying something about engine trouble. Apparently the van had broken down halfway to Hamilton and the van had gone into a garage for repairs, it would supposedly be ready at six or so this morning.

Sean was suspicious about this to say the least. Far too coincidental for his already overactive nerves.

Sean asked if he could leave a message for the Professor to call him and he left the administration wing of the University campus.

Walking down the long corridors, Sean was lost in his love of learning. A radio somewhere and untuned in the distance, finished playing the song 'Friends Will Be Friends' by Queen. Then the nine thirty news, clicked on.

"This is David Winter with the IRN News Update, its nine thirty am. In shocking news, two separate pairs of bodies have been found in the Auckland suburbs of Mt. Eden and One Tree Hill. The assailant is believed to be the same person on both counts as he is seen entering and leaving both premises. The murderer is believed to be known by both parties. Names of the victims have yet to be released yet the name of the assailant - one Sean Barker has been released. This individual is believed to be extremely dangerous and under no means should be approached. Any information on this individual's whereabouts shou..."

Sean didn't listen to any more; he had taken off as quickly as possible. So this must be their 'standard business practice'.

--

Hurtling down the main steps Sean stumbled and fell outwards from the curb. The screech of brakes and a "Dammit you fucking maniac!" was heard across the carpark. Sean pulled himself up off of the concrete, looked squarely at the driver, ready to let loose a string of particularly nasty expletives and comments about the driver's mother.

The driver was Travis.

Running to the passenger side and clambering in, all he could pant between laboured breaths was "Dri...ve!"

The look in Sean's eyes was pure panic and blind trust. Travis floored the accelerator.

--

They had arrived at Hugo's. It was a small two-bedroom flat. Hugo's parents owned a large station on the Gold Coast of Australia, so they paid for the house and also subsidized Hugo a small amount of money every week. It was a running joke that he got more a week than Travis. However he saved the majority and was lavish with his friends. He was quite a humble guy. The only evidence that Hugo was more well off, was that his pantry was huge and stocked with the finest available foodstuffs. Hugo believed that eating was a privilege, not just a right and would often take time out to harass fast food employees for laughs. He was not a fan of Colonel Sanders in the slightest.

Hugo opened the door and the others entered.

They were worried about Sean, that was plain enough. He had sat still for the entirety of the trip here and when asked what had happened had simply turned on the radio. He, and his supposed actions were all over the news. Rei had simply placed her hand on his shoulder for the rest of the trip.

They couldn't believe it. Apart from the fact that Sean wouldn't do something like this, the past few days had taken their toll on him physically and mentally.

In short, he was a fucking mess.

Hugo and Travis entered the kitchen and their quiet chatter was drowned out by Sean's ragged breathing. Rei held Sean in her arms as the numbed young man tried to process the events of the past few days. He didn't have much luck. Almost on the verge of tears, to see the usually strong and bloody-minded man this trashed; was almost too mush for Rei to handle.

Travis exited the kitchen and walked up to her. Bending down and whispering in her ear, she simply nodded, caressed Sean's cheek and left, with the Englishman in tow.

--

Hugo was at a loss. While he and Sean had only gotten to know each other in the last few months they had become fast friends and this was seriously a messed up situation to be in.

Sighing, against his will for the most part, he added some pasta to some boiling water on his stove. Plonking some herbs into the mix (Hugo firmly believed that any herb was good in anything), he took the freshly brewed coffee into Sean.

Sean sat there mutely. Hugo handed him the coffee at which Sean smiled. His eyelid twitched. It was plain to see that Sean was currently running on coffee, all other power in his body coming from his immense will.

Handing Sean the ashtray, Hugo left the room. He didn't smoke himself, except when absolutely blasted on vodka, but believed others had a right to do so as they saw fit.

Sean sat limply with a cigarette in one hand, coffee in the other. His thoughts raced miles ahead of his comprehension, so he just admired the view along the way, catching sentient and coherent thoughts every so often.

Time became hollow.

--

Hugo entered the room. Sean was simply sitting there, the ash from his untouched cigarette a grey smudge in the ashtray and the coffee untouched. Sean however as wide awake.

Hugo snapped his fingers and waved his hand in front of Sean's face.

"Thanks for the coffee man, its good."

"Sean, you haven't even tasted it."

"Really?"

"Come with me," said Hugo as he helped his friend up and into the kitchen.

A large plate of pasta and thick red tomato sauce, chunks of rich meat underlying, sat on the table. Sean stared at it blankly.

"You eat it," said Hugo, helping Sean in to the chair.

Placed in front of it and with it under his nose, Sean sniffed. Almost robotically, he fell on the food like a starving hyena, holding the plate cradled in one arms so as not to let it escape, the other hand, fork grasped like a spear, moving like a conveyor belt.

While Hugo liked it when people ate his food, this was disturbing. Sean ate like he may never see food again.

Upon seeing the food, that was exactly what Sean had thought.

--

The fourth file had been the most complete of all the data in the dossier. What had stopped Sean cold, his jaw tightening and his heart racing, was that this file, Guyver V, was his file. Detachment wafted over him as the bottom of his reality buckled and moved like liquid glass, swirling and bubbling. The first picture was of what he could only call demonic armour; red like blood and laced together with what seemed to be raw exposed muscle, pink and orange. The central fin on the creature's crown was flanked by two smaller spikes, like the horns of a devil. Beneath that, the cold ice blue eyes glowing with an almost preternatural vision. The light had caught the armour in several places, revealing the fact it was a metallic red, veins of maroon and vermilion deep in the crustacean shell. The figure was in a battle ready pose and the landscape behind, at first detracted, but them gaining familiarity. A scree slope and in front of the red beasts feet, the smouldering remains of some putrefying monstrosity.

The second photograph was him, his eyes red and his profile darkened and cloudy as if the image was taken through glass.

Sean knew both these images well; not even two days had really passed since he had been in the exact position. It was Tarawera all over again, and the bus trip that rather than taking him home, had taken him to Hell.

His stomach nearly fell when he reached the personal file. All his history, in black and white, his parents, their names harshly crossed out in red ink, his flatmates, again marked off. His brother and sister were also listed, as yet unmarked. Every thing he had done, his education, his bank history, the brand of deodorant he used, it was all there, like some mind jarring realization that big brother really was watching him. And that he had been bad in some way. He felt violated, raped, and what with the day he had had, he simply needed to walk.

--

Travis and Rei knocked on the door. Hugo let them in.

"Verdict?"

"They don't believe that he was with us, saying they have witnesses at the bus depot and his prints all over the place, at both scenes." answered Travis.

"How is he?" asked Rei

"Asleep, last time I checked an hour or so ago. Dead like." replied Hugo, "What took so long?"

"Those fucking bureaucrats decided to give us the third degree as well as the fourth, they were just about ready to lock us up." scoffed Travis.

"So did he say anything?"

"Not really Rei, just something about a company and standard business practice. But then again he really wasn't in a condition to speak, he really should have been out of it before we found him, I don't think he has slept at all since the mountain."

"Since that night in the hospital, everything has gone all trippy shit."

Hugo and Rei looked at Travis quizzically. His use of colloquialisms and expletives was right on the money.

--

Sean slept, but not well. The fever dream had returned, in clarity comparable to the hospital. Most nights it was a simple echo but now, amplified. He also saw himself, how he knew this was because he was in the suit and because he had been told. He relived the incident on the Lakeland Queen.

All the violence, the suit revelling in the destruction of its 'brothers'. Brothers? It was a haze of half recollected emotion assaulting his senses. He screamed, reverberating through his skull like the bells of some nightmare cathedral.

New visions, looking down at his armour clad hands, exaltation in his freedom, and the rock above crumbling away. Then the cool embrace of the pure snow.

--

Voices awoke him. Voices that instinct and paranoia recognized as bad. Voices that wished him harm. He pulled on his shoes and trenchcoat before opening the window. Looking out he saw a police car. Swearing under his breath, he ripped open the lining of his coat. Stuffing the files in he half vaulted; half fell out the window. And began to run.

Run anywhere.

--

They had been followed. Not ten minutes after arriving back at Hugo's, Travis answered the door to a stone faced detective and two officers. Not even asking for an invitation they burst in and demanded the whereabouts of Sean Barker.

Pleading ignorance, loudly, the trio feigned innocence. The police where in the process of threatening them, which was doing nothing to Travis' already existing anger, when the walkie talkie of one officer went off.

"Sir we have a sighting two kilometres from here!"

"Lets hustle then!" the detective bellowed scrambling for the door.

Several minutes passed before Travis said "Shit that boy can move when he wants, can't he?"

--

He ran, no destination, terminus of journey unknown.

He could hear screeching tyres and sirens, his already shattered psyche doing its level best to run away from a reality that had been forced upon him by a 'standard business practice'. Swearing vehemently he changed direction as a police car, moved around a corner in front of him, seemingly to intercept him.

Winded and starting to get very irritated, Sean headed down an alleyway. The unit seemed to scream at him, offering a way out.

As a police car blocked his exit, and glancing over his shoulder to see another blocking a retreat. Sean simply gave in.

"Guy-ver!"

--

Rooftops were a welcome change, for a start there was less traffic, not counting pigeons. The suit offered clarity of thought, a detachment. Sean knew that he was being framed. He laughed at himself, a tinny sound coming from deep in the armour.

Auckland was no longer safe for him, not only was he a wanted man, four murders sitting over his head and who knew what else orchestrated by this 'Company'. Stopping his rooftop game of leapfrog, Sean realised he had made it back to the central city. Jumping higher, he landed gently on the top of a high-rise.

Sean looked out towards the north. Not much there besides Waitemata Harbour and the suburbs of Devonport and Takapuna over the bridge. Looking south, the largest suburb Manukau, almost a city in itself sprawled towards the Bombay Hills.

A flash caught Sean's eye. A jumbo jet landing. His vision seemed to be heightened as when he concentrated he could see the tarmac of the runway.

He remembered the files. Tokyo. He had barely any money, no clothes but those on his back (where did they go to anyway?) and he definitely had no passport. Like they would let a wanted 'murderer' leave the country anyway.

Nevertheless, Sean began his aerial game of hopscotch once more. He needed to catch a bus.

--

Auckland International Airport had recently undergone large upgrades, in both size and facilities. Sean had worked on the building crew for one company over his holidays. It was good money and he had managed to save a bit up for the year. Somewhat lost in the nostalgia of the days past when everything was more or less straight forward, Sean landed gently on the rooftop of the main terminal. He had had to fly for part of the way after the buildings got lower, and the buses ran out; subconsciously repeating the words "don't see me, don't see me" over and over.

Having heard no shouts of amazement or shock, he assumed himself to be safe. People seemed more concerned for what was in front of them rather than what went on above their heads. That seemed quite profound, yet ironic at the same time.

Sean looked towards the main departure gate, trying to locate the plane schedule board thing. Moving down a few score metres, Sean found his objective.

Tokyo - Air New Zealand - Departure: One PM

What was the time anyway? Leaping over the raised rooftop and glancing down into the foyer again, the large digital clock on the wall said 12:55 PM.

"Shit." said Sean.

--

A little girl looked up to see a red man with spiky parts on his head looking at the clock. She tugged on her father's pant leg.

"Daddy, look at the man!"

Her father glanced up, just missing the red blur as the figure shot away. He looked at his daughter who seemed confused that the man was no longer there.

"Right," he thought "she doesn't drink Coke on a trans-continental flight again."

--

The large Boeing 747 jumbo jet taxied gently onto the main runway cleared for takeoff.

As it began its take off approach, a red figure, three spikes on his head, accelerated and began to follow the plane's course along the runway. The figure moved somewhat erratically, like it was trying to find something. Somehow managing to keep level with the plane, the figure straightened his run, obviously sighting his objective.

As the large aircraft left the runway the figure performed a massive leap, wrapping his arms around the upper part of the wheel hosing and then hoisting itself inside.

--

A lone air traffic control monitor looked at this string of events with a questioning look on her face. As the figure disappeared she shook her head and looked at her coffee cup.

She walked over to the sink and tipped the coffee out.

As her colleagues entered they heard her mutter quietly "cheap-arse shit dispenser machine coffee".

--

Atop another building a seedy looking figure watched the aforementioned events like a hawk. Flipping open a cellular phone and pushing a series of numbers, the figure straightened up and waited.

"Yes" came a hollow sephulric voice from the other end.

"Sir, surveillance indicates that the Unit Designate 5 has left Auckland as was estimated via preliminary reports and the dummy instructions forwarded to Enzyme and Razell."

"Did you witness this, Citiciss?"

"Yes sir."

"Excellent, return to base and await further orders."

--

Part Six - Introductions

--

"Free is all you gotta be,

Dream dreams that no one else can see,

Sometimes ya wanna run away,

But ya never know what might be comin' round your way"

Bryan Adams "On a Day like Today"

--

Damn, but was it was cold. And here he was sitting in the underbelly of any airplane, thousands of feet in the air. Sean could not have imagined he would be in such a situation a week ago and now, well, it seemed perfectly logical.

Logical but freaking cold.

Having moved up through the ducts in the plane, Sean had managed to reach the baggage section. Dark and unlighted, he had used the suit to find his way around. The ducts had been meant for technicians, not armour clad stowaways. Opening bags carefully, judging by the exterior and bag style which belonged to men, Sean managed to find a jersey his size, along with a blanket.

Recalling the suit, it got colder. Sean pulled on the jersey and replaced his trenchcoat. Checking that the files he had stolen in Auckland were still in the lining, Sean wrapped the trenchcoat tighter around his cold body followed by the blanket. Nestling down amongst the suitcases and bags and pulling some over him, Sean drifted off to an uneasy but welcome sleep.

--

The hours dragged by with dozing and contemplation from within his canvas igloo. Sean reprocessed the last four days of his life, and his albeit mish-mash plans for Tokyo. How would he find the other Guyver's? And would they even want to be found?

--

The plane screeched down onto the tarmac, its large rubber wheels coughing up plumes of smoke. A red figure dropped from the undercarriage and stopped mere inches from the ground. Landing casually the figure sped towards the main airport building.

Mere minutes later, the figure entered the nearest bathroom. After some time, Sean Barker emerged, face washed and hair tidied, feeling somewhat better.

Looked around, Sean found he had absolutely no idea what was going on. He didn't know any Japanese aside from the odd word and greeting. This was going to prove an interesting outing.

Pushing his way into the stream of humanity, Sean made towards the main doors of the airport terminal hoping that some sort of inspiration would come to him.

Stepping out into the crisp air once more, Sean reached for a cigarette. He couldn't find any. "S'bout time I quit anyhow's," he mumbled and looked towards the city.

Two words entered his mind upon this, his first glance upon Tokyo and its massive skyline - fucking and huge.

It was then that Sean released the futility of his decision. While seemingly genius at the time, how on Earth, let alone this city of millions of souls, could he hope to find this Fukamachi or this Makishima. Swearing, Sean started to walk towards the city.

Slowly a cab pulled up to him, a small rather greasy, but nondescript man behind the wheel. "Hey buddy," he said in flawless English, "Do you want a ride somewhere."

"No thanks," replied Sean "I kinda have no money."

"Where ya from kid?"

"New Zealand."

"Whew, youse a long way from home, kid. And broke too. I know this guy fer who you could work." The little man said the words 'guy' and 'fer' with extra stress, making them stand out of the sentence and the 'f' sound like a 'v'.

Sean just looked at him, eyebrow raised in question.

"Get in," the man said.

Sean looked at him for a moment. The guy was small but chances were he was some sort of Mr. Miyagi wannabe with a black belt in beat-your-arse. Sean had the armour however so he simply shrugged and got into the back of the cab.

"Explain what you want pal." Sean said, more statement than question.

The driver merely winked at him and proceeded to pull back into traffic.

Sean was slightly uneasy.

--

Half an hour later and still no explanation, Sean was starting to get miffed. "Listen pal, I have gone along with this so far but what the hell are ya tryin ta pull!"

"Rest assured Sir, no harm will come to you, I am merely taking you to a friend."

"And is this a 'friend' of yours or a 'friend' of mine?"

"Both, Guyver."

Sean just sat there. This situation was getting real weird.

Just then the cab finished winding through the traffic, and began down a street, devoid of anything except boarded up warehouses and piles of junk.

Sean's mind started screaming at him. He mentally cursed himself for being such a putz.

The car pulled into a garage whereupon the roller door slammed down with a dreadful finality.

"Fuck" said Sean, his inner voice screeching 'I told you so!' at him.

--

Sean got out of the back of the cab, anger catalyzing with his general surliness at life due to his current circumstances.

"What the fuck are you playing at!" he bellowed at the driver.

"Just a reception to welcome you home Guyver."

A light flicked on, illuminating a figure. Sean had seen this figure before. The figure was the Guyver 1. Something however felt wrong. The Guyver seemed to ripple, like through a heat haze.

"Not quite" Sean stated, followed by "Guyver!"

"Damnit!" screamed the cab driver; his skin rippling and peeling like a banana, revealing a large monster like a cross between a gorilla and a bat. Memories filtered thorough Sean's brain.

"Ramotith" he hissed.

Suddenly the suit screamed at Sean, its sensors flying into a frenzy. Looking around, small doors were opening and humans were filtering in. Men and women, naked as the day they were born, shambling like zombies.

The Guyver-like monster melted into a rotund version of some sort of slimy iguana pig with a huge chin and razor sharp teeth. It spoke.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Gelpess - Lost Number, Ramotith there you have met." Sean's head was warily bobbing between the two creatures and the humans. At the mention of this name, Ramotith make a gun shape with his hand and pointed it at Sean, giving him a wink.

"And these," continued Gelpess "are unfortunate employees of our company who happened to undergo some unfortunate side effects during the 'conversion' process. You see they lost all semblance of intellect yet they are suitable cannon fodder, if you will."

Guyver looked at them coldly, vents hissing. "Don't you dickheads know that when you tell the good guy the plan, he always whomps your arse?"

"What gives you that idea?" asked Gelpess.

"Easy," replied Guyver, "James Bond films."

The creature-human hybrids began to morph and melt, and Sean calmly assumed the swordsman pose he had used against the first Ramotith on the Lakeland Queen.

Sean easily recognized the monsters that the humans became; Gregole's and Ramotith's, with a few unnamable misfortunates.

They charged.

--

Obviously the plan was simple, thought Sean, wear him down steadily by numbers. These creatures were obviously freaks as the iguana-pig had said; yet the sheer volume of them was beginning to tax his strength. He was also hungry, cold and tired. He was beginning to slow down. The Cab-Ramotith and Gelpess stood off to the side. They were smoking cigars and joking around, obviously unconcerned with the fight off to the side.

A haymaker to the side of his head broke Sean from his observation, as the creatures swamped him under.

--

"So," said Ramotith, "what do ya reckon da odds are?"

"Not very good," grinned Gelpess, which was unsettling to even Ramotith, "obviously the boy is inexperienced with the armour, due to the time frame and he can't employ his large particle weapon due to the proximity of our troops."

"These grunts are supposed to be killed off though right?"

"Yeah something about non-viable troops being destroyed to prevent genetic assimilation or something."

"Oi muthafuckas! That all you bitches got!"

The two relaxed monsters turned to see the red Guyver unit, standing amongst a pile of severed body parts, his ragged breath hissing through his armour.

"No." replied Gelpess simply, hitting a switch on the wall.

With that, a large roller door clanged to the ceiling, revealing three furred creatures. They looked like albino gorilla's crossed with lantern fish, their long teeth, dripping a sickly ichor to the floor. Their tails swayed like pendulums.

"You should take your Sasquatch on the road, you could make a fortune." said Sean, starting to get worried despite the false bravado. The ground were the ichor was landing was smoking and fizzing.

Almost like a whisper, yet clearly heard, a new voice spoke up "They are not Sasquatch."

When the sentence finished, three balls of what appeared to be dark blue lightening ploughed out of the rafters above and into the head of the three shaggy beats, bursting their heads like ripe tomatoes.

Cab-Ramotith, upon hearing the voice, seeing the ball and feeling the fine mist of central nervous system, ran.

A fourth ball hit him in the back, splattering the walls with gore.

Sean, exhaustion getting the better of him, slumped to his knees, as Gelpess started toward him, hand reached out as if to grab him.

In a flash of blue silver, another Guyver stood before Sean. It was staring directly at the creature, no fear whatsoever. Gelpess swung a wide punch, whereupon this silver armoured benefactor blurred and reappeared behind Gelpess, grasping the titanic ogre in a bearhug.

Squeezing and crushing the monster, the silver figure wrenched its shoulders, ripping the beast in half and showering himself and Sean with blood.

--

Sean, now almost numb from shock and awe at witnessing such ease in combat, looked up to see the silver Guyver, step towards him, both blades on his forearms extended.

Powering down, armour disappearing to whence it came, Sean stumbled to his feet and reached out his right hand, "Hi, my name is Sean Barker."

The silver unit looked on incredulous as Sean collapsed face first into a pile of viscera.

--

Sean shook of the dregs of sleep and opened his eyes slowly. He couldn't see. "Now I'm blind too, great" he mumbled as he reached his hand up towards his face.

Click click.

That was a gun. A gun cocking.

Sean lifted his arms above his head and slowly began to sit up. Meeting no resistance or bullets along the way, he straightened up fully, the damp cloth falling from over his eyes.

Across from him, gun aimed casually at his forehead was a girl. She had shoulder length dark hair, with a hard glint in her eyes and a scowl on her face.

"Urrr G'day" said Sean warily.

The girl continued to keep her eyes and the gun firmly fixed on Sean, as she rose from her chair and knocked on the door across from her.

The room was small, with a simple cot and a chair in the corner on which the girl was sitting. The light came from a simple bulb above.

The door opened and a stocky Japanese man wearing Lennon style glasses entered. He looked Sean up and down slowly, taking his measure, and then he extended his hand. Sean grasped it and found the handshake to be firm. Sean liked this guy already.

"My name is Tetsuro. Sorry about all this but seeing you gave us quite a shock. Please would you follow me."

Mindful of the girl with the gun, Sean followed the large man into the room he had come from. This room looked more like it belonged in a house. Sean glanced over his shoulder at the room he had just left, which he could see now was a later edition to the house. The angry looking girl waggled the gun in his face and Sean turned back around.

Sean was led up to a largish table, which was surrounded up some young men and woman. Sean suddenly realized he was the oldest person here. He was motioned into a seat. Sitting down, Sean looked at the others around the table. While some had gotten up to make room for himself and his escorts, two remained seated. A girl and a man just slightly older.

The girl had her hair in a pageboy type style and seemed to have a bright personality that shone through her eyes and couldn't be hidden behind her somber expression. The other figure was eighteen or nineteen years old and had dark hair in an unkempt style. He had a haunted look to him, like he had seen things that he wished to forget. That look alone had made Sean think the man was older.

Sean recognized the haunted young man as Sho Fukamachi. Not knowing why he did so, and not really concerned about it either way, Sean introduced himself and began to tell his story.

--

For the next three hours they sat, listening to the New Zealander tell his story. Sean produced the notes and gave his opinion on why he had managed to 'acquire' them so easily.

They ate and the hosts watched their guest consume coffee by the perk-full. Then as the night wore on, Tetsuro, and the two girls, the angry one and the happy one, Natsuki and Mizuki respectively, all excused themselves and sought their beds.

Sean and Sho sat there in silence. Sho finally broke the silence. "I don't know you well enough, as of yet, to know whether I can trust you fully or not Sean, but I wish to tell you something."

"That I can understand," replied Sean, "go ahead."

"This is my story..."

--

Part Seven - Conversations and Resolutions

--

"If you got a hunger for what you see,

You'll take it eventually,

You can have anything you want,

But you better not take it from me."

Guns N Roses "Welcome To the Jungle"

--

The sun rose gently, caressing the skyline like a mother does her child.

Sho and Sean stood quietly looking into the pink tinged sky. Sho looked over at the blonde man and said, "And that is what has happened since I found the unit."

"Shit," said Sean, "Makes mine look like a fairy tale."

Both men looked back towards the rising sun.

--

Several hours later, Tetsuro Sugawa pondered over the previous night's discussion. He had several theories that where finally being proven. Just having comparisons between Akito and Sho was not enough, and could be attributed to coincidence. Sean represented a new variable to his calculations.

A hand placed itself on Tetsuro's shoulder. It was attached to Sho.

"Yen for your thoughts?" he asked.

"I just have a nagging feeling about the units in general that the appearance of our new friend has catalyzed."

As if in response, a loud snore rattled the wall.

"Quite," said Sho.

"Yes, I actually am now led to believe that the suits contain a sentience of some kind." Tetsuro held up his hand to forestall Sho's question and continued, "which besides the resurrection and regeneration we have become familiar with, also explains your first transformation and Sean's also."

"Explain." prompted Sho.

"Well in your case, we both were in danger of being killed. The suit reacted. Sean's story of the incident on this boat, and his hazy recollection of this mountain clarify what I have been ruminating over for some time. That being, the units actually choose a host, not in a conventional sense, but they attach to an individual that will suit its purposes. While it can't control the body, it is actually a symbiotic relationship."

"And that I suppose is a good thing to know." Muttered a dishevelled Sean.

Tetsuro and Sho looked at him in surprise. Sean continued, "What I get is that this Guyver unit thing is some sort of alien bio-organic boosting capacitor, a parasitic body, living in symbiosis with our own, enabling a mutually beneficent relationship between both us and it. It will make us stronger, faster and so forth but has its own goals, which may or may not coincide with my own."

Even Tetsuro was impressed with how the dim seeming New Zealander had taken this in.

"Yes," said Tetsuro, "but it is yours to command."

"If you know how." finished Sho.

"Guess I'll just have to learn then. Or wing it."

--

Lunchtime or there about saw a showered, shaven and cleanly dressed Sean Barker, walking casually through the districts of Tokyo. He had made the pretense of needing to figure things out, which was true, but he had also left because of the looks. He felt out of place, like an interloper, a player bought in for the last game, so to speak.

He didn't like it.

He had purchased some noodles with some money Mizuki had given him. She had instantly taken a shine to him and realized he was what he appeared to be. The others, Sho included, seemed to have reserved judgement for now.

He liked noodles and pasta in general. It was just that now, tired and away from home, he wanted meat. Beef or lamb, he didn't care. Just lots of it.

He was adrift in his own thoughts.

Looking up, Sean saw he was dwarfed by a colossal building, a monument to consumerism. It had a huge logotype about twenty stories up, proclaiming its grandeur.

Chronos Corporation.

He couldn't believe that the torment was actually due to a company. He had taken 'standard business practice' as a slang term. He had no idea these bastards actually had it in their fucking charter.

Looking up at the blight on his life and the lives of countless others, he though back to Sho's words:

"Chronos is huge and multinational, they are a financial giant with hundreds of legitimate cover companies. The own most governments outright and have dictators and warlords on their payroll. They have companies in all fields from petrochemicals to pharmaceuticals, publishing to manufacture. They can't hurt us, because they can't find us. They are run by a council, a group of men who control with iron fists. They in turn are controlled by their overlord."

Sho had then gone into the different classifications of 'Zoanoid' - the monster beasts that Sean had been working out on, or just as easily, worked over by. Apparently they varied between simple grunts to scouts, divers, flyers, marksmen and so forth. Sho had warned him especially of four groups, Lost Numbers, Enzymes, Hyper Zoanoids and Lords. Sho described how the creatures were created, as far as he knew, what many were capable of and which ones to avoid. Sean had actually felt his stomach clench when Sho had described the Zoalords and their almost godlike powers.

Shivering, whether from fear or cold, Sean turned from the building and began his walking once more.

Walking down the streets aimlessly let his thoughts wander also. To home and how his life was destroyed. Shaking his mind from the grisly turn, Sean stopped at a telephone booth.

"AT&T, which number would you like?"

"Yes, I would like to place a collect call to Auckland, New Zealand."

--

High above the Sea of Japan, a blue-grey streak of light halted and wavered steadily in the air. It was Sho Fukamachi. "Guyver Three. Are you there?"

"What?" replied a voice, reverberating around the inside of Sho's skull.

"I just thought you might like to know that we have another Guyver running around."

"Yes, your point being?"

"You already knew didn't you."

"Yes I sensed him when he first biomorphed a little over five days ago. Why?"

"He is here with us in Tokyo."

"Where do his loyalties lie?"

"I don't know, he is still trying to comprehend it all."

"Make sure he is with us. Makishima out."

Sho cursed. That was what got him about Akito. He was cold and heartless. He kept information to himself and seemed more concerned for his own goals. That and Sho was still pissed about how he had summoned the Giga when Sho had been using it. It could have been fatal.

Sho hadn't mentioned the Giga to Sean. He needed his own answers first.

Guyver Three obviously had his own objectives.

Sho turned and flew at supersonic speeds back to Tokyo.

--

Akito Makishima powered down and sat in his dark office, his fingers in a steeple shape. This red Guyver was a wildcard. He had sensed the transformation immediately and had sent his New Zealand agent to check up on it. Using stolen Chronos technology, namely the 'device', the agent had managed to infiltrate the tour party on the mountain. He didn't like the attitude the man himself seemed to radiate. This Sean Barker was brash, outspoken and had a mouth on him. The footage from the Sky City Hotel displayed as much.

Akito could control Sho easily, feeding him information enough to keep him quiet. Tetsuro was much the same. This new Guyver appeared to be a hands-on type. He also seemed gullible, which Akito could manipulate to his advantage.

Akito then allowed himself a smile. His theory had been proven. His psychic powers were stronger than Fukamachi's. This was proven not just by the control Akito exhibited over the Giga, but also that he had sensed Barker's first biomorph and Fukamachi had not.

--

Travis entered his small apartment, swearing loudly to himself. He practically punched the answer machine.

"Beep," it said as if in chastisement. Travis gave it the finger.

He had been at the police station since Sean had evaded custody. They were being cross-examined to death and the answers they gave, even though true had been ignored. They had held them overnight and finally after some sort of signal, the interrogation was broken off.

"Travis, Sean here. I'm in Japan. You need to get out of the country. I mean it. You ain't safe, trust me, I've found answers. I'll be in touch."

"Click," the machine added in electronic delight.

Travis stared at the machine. He grabbed the receiver quickly and dialled.

"Hugo, Travis here. Yeah. No, I just got a message from Sean. Yep, pack a bag. Don't worry I'll explain it all in an hour. Bye."

Travis then dialled Rei.

--

Sean hung up. The bugger would be out. It had thankfully only cost all the yen he had. Any more and he would have been unable to get the message over. He just hoped Travis got it in time.

Walking slowly down the street, Sean glanced at his watch. Four PM. Heading off towards the house, he began to think about his friends and the last few days again. It was like a recurring daydream.

"Rei." he said out loud.

"Yes?" said a raven-haired girl from beside him. He was walking past a group of five girls, one brunette, two had dark hair and the other two were blondes. One had her hair in a weird style, like she had two dinner buns sitting on her scalp.

"Pardon?" said Sean snapped from his thoughts of friends and funky hairstyles.

"You said my name," replied the long dark haired girl, "what do you want?"

"Rei!" hissed the tall brown haired girl.

"Oh, I am so sorry," said Sean, searching his mind for some Japanese, "Gomen nasai, I was just thinking about a friend back home."

"Where are you from?" asked the perky blonde with the straight hair?

"New Zealand." replied Sean.

"You certainly are a long way from home." commented the girl with close cropped blue-black hair.

"That I am." said Sean, as he turned and began to walk away.

The girls stood there looking at the departing man's back. Finally the tall brunette said, "You know, he looks a lot like my ex-boyfriend. Can't speak Japanese well though."

--

Sho and Sean arrived back at Natsuki's at similar times. Sho was obviously thinking about something so Sean just sat out on the balcony looking up at the sky. The pollution and moonlight made interesting patterns.

A cough sounded behind him. It was Mizuki. "Sean, you have been out here for some time. Is everything alright."

"Everything is fine, thank you," replied Sean, trying to be as courteous as possible.

"Dinner is ready then."

Sean got up and went inside.

--

Late again, Sean and Sho stood on the balcony. Sean was trying to ask a question but the time just didn't seem to be right. Finally he asked "Sho, could I possibly ask you a favour?"

"What would that be?" asked Sho.

"Help me. Help me learn what this thing can do and what I can do with it?"

"Why?" asked Sho, knowing the answer, but asking anyway.

"So I can hurt the fuckers that have messed with my life and my friends lives and the lives of millions." He was exaggerating slightly on the millions. He had no idea of how big Chronos really was.

"Why?" asked Sho, pushing the blonde man.

"WHY!" yelled Sean, "Why! I'll tell you why! Cos its not fucking right that's why! They got cash, they got power, but they ain't got no right to mess with people just cos they can, damnit!" Sean slammed his fist onto the balcony railing. It shuddered in protest.

Sho placed his hand on Sean's shoulder. He was beginning to like the big man and even trust him. Sean didn't seem to be overly concerned for himself, Sho sensed he wanted justice. Right over wrong. Almost like Superman.

"Alright, come with me." Sho stood back from the balcony edge and went back inside. Sean followed him.

--

Unlike Sho, Sean had a teacher. He had watched the suit and watched Sho. He was amazed at how much the suit could do. After explaining the suit it was just simply as matter of letting Sean play with it.

Several trees had been destroyed, as well as a largish patch of land, but this deep in the mountains of highland China they were undisturbed.

Sean readied the pressure cannon and let loose a blast that shattered a tree to matchwood. He then flipped over his back, extending the right forward blade, slicing a large boulder in twain, then spinning on his heal, he set two twigs from the destroyed tree ablaze with his head laser, leaving the others untouched.

Sho watched. Sean had obviously seen far to many martial arts movies and anime, but Sho had to admit it looked impressive. Grinning beneath his mask, he sent out the thought "Sean" through the telepathic link.

Sean's shout of "!!" echoed through the valley.

--

Sean stood across from Sho, Tetsuro and the two girls on a lonely beach just south of Tokyo.

"Thank you, domi arigato" said Sean

"You are welcome." Natsuki replied, ignoring the mispronunciation.

While being there for only a week, Sean had become, while not a close friend, a comrade. He had studied Chronos and their tactics under Tetsuro, practiced combat and so forth with Sho, and had helped out around the house. He was homesick now and hoped that the trouble had somewhat died down back in New Zealand. He finished his good-byes and turned to them as a group.

"Next time, I visit, I bring the barbeque."

They all nodded and waved as Sean turned and walked off down the beach. The four turned back to the van and climbed in. Starting the engine, Tetsuro saw a red streak take flight and head off towards the south.

"What's a barbeque?" asked Sho.

--

Part Eight - Homecoming

--

"Take the hammer,

Smash the glass take,

The glass cut the

Mother earth opens,

Up and sucks you,

Down it sucks your

Sorry ass into the ground."

The Feelers - "Pressure Man"

--

Quietly, the moon rising like a pearl, Sean Barker set his feet gently upon the slopes of Mount Ruapehu. Almost reverently, Sean breathed in deeply, the Guyver unit expelling the air with a hiss. Standing on the ridge Sean looked off towards the north, where Ruapehu's brother, Ngaruahoe, was wearing the moon like a halo.

Sean looked at the mountain under his feet, it tantrum of just over a week and a half ago seemingly just a bad patch during its night of sleep.

Sean was certain that all evidence of the cave, now and forever more was lost.

It was in some way, like the place of his birth had been lost to him.

Rising up like a flame against the moon's eerie glow, Sean flew off towards the northeast and his next port of call.

--

Mount Tarawera was an imposing site. The wound in its hulking flank looked impressive from above and in the silvery light.

Sean, hung in the air over the mountain, looking down on the site of the first battle he witnessed, where the Guyver unit took over and destroyed three Chronos Zoanoids. The idea that it was a huge conspiracy and so forth was still an alien concept.

Obviously the net was vast. The fact that within hours of his appearance on The Lakeland Queen, the whole global organization was alerted to his presence and that they were ready for him when he stepped off the plane in Tokyo, regardless of the fact he left Auckland on a whim and within minutes.

Sean didn't like the fact that he was marked. Marked for death.

The sensors in his head jerked slowly towards the north. Looking in that direction Sean saw a flyer, or at least that is what it appeared to be. A giant bug looking thing, a huge dragonfly with arms, coming from the north, from Auckland.

Shrugging, half impressed that answers had found him, Sean floated at high speed on a converging arc.

--

Devold hated to fly. The fact that he had to do so at night was worse. The altitude required to escape sighting from the ground and the calls needed to be made beforehand to allow the correct channels to be "opened" was a hassle. That and it was cold up here.

Amusing however, that the human meats would turn a blind eye for some paper.

Cursing quietly at the cold, yet satisfied that he was nearly at his destination, Devold was quite surprised to dip downwards suddenly.

"Hi, how are you this evening" commented a quirky voice.

Devold looked down, "Guyver!" it cursed.

"That would be me," said Sean as they crashed bodily through the trees.

--

Sean stood there quietly waiting for the monster to move. He actually hoped it was alive, after all he had landed on it, twisting in mid fall. One of its eyes had popped when they landed, giving the creature's face a lopsided look.

It stirred. Confident of his motives and course of action, Sean calmly grabbed its chin, or what passed for it, shocking the creature into wakefulness.

It stared at him, shock and rage written across what was left of its face.

"Wake up ugly, I have questions." Sean hissed. The creature spat at him. Sean grabbed it wing with the other hand and squeezed.

The monster screeched.

"First up darlin," continued Sean, "I want your name and what you know about me."

The creature went to spit again and Sean squeezed the wing tighter.

"I will pull it off. Now talk."

Fear crossed the creature's face, followed swiftly by arrogance. "I am Devold, and you Guyver," the name was said like an expletive, rife with dirt, "are supposed to be in Japan."

"Was," said Sean, "they didn't have enough red meat so I left. And where were you off to on this lovely evening Devold."

Fear again crossed the creature's face, blind fear. It was deathly afraid, and not of Sean.

It began to whimper.

Sean pulled its face around to stare at his almost demonic visage. "Talk to me, handsome."

The creature's eyes almost seemed to cloud over. Its voice came again, yet this time a sephulric rumble and not a hiss.

"Hello Guyver."

Sean, dropped the head in fright, stepping back hurriedly, "You!"

"Congratulations, it seems are overdue, not only did you evade our Tokyo branch but you have learnt about your abilities."

"Minus the false info and misdirection you tried to feed me."

"Congratulations are in order for that also, I believe. But we shall have what we want."

As the voice was silenced the head of Devold, or what was left of it exploded, raining flesh and fragments of bone over the leaf litter.

Sean stood quietly, misted blood mingled with the night air falling gently. His sensors shot back at a noise from his right hand side. Spinning, blades extending from his forearms Sean was face to face with a morepork.

"Moree--pork" it said.

"Piss off" said Sean, not really in the mood for the Nature Channel.

The bird twisted its head at him quizzically.

"Yeah whatever." said Sean, turning to leave.

Suddenly like that special effect from the Evil Dead movies, the trees behind Sean collapsed like they were being bulldozed, and as Sean glanced over his shoulder, he was ran under by the sweaty mass of a Gregole.

"Welcoming party!" bellowed a Ramotith, falling from the trees.

Sean pushed the lumbering green rhino off of him and squarely punched him in the jaw screaming, "Not on the first date bitch!"

By this time, Sean was outnumbered six to one, him versus three Gregole and three Ramotith.

They circled Sean cautiously, aware that he was more powerful now, then before.

"Who wants some? Who wants a little?" said Sean, still impressed with his earlier Evil Dead analogy.

They all charged. "Shit," said Sean extending his blades once more.

Throwing his right fist forward, Sean impaled the charging Ramotith, quickly retracting, then swinging his arm in an upward arc, decapitating the gorilla-bat. Then swinging his left elbow back, Sean sent the vibration sword through the head of a Gregole, which was attempting to spear him with its horn.

Sean kicked the Gregole away cracking several of its ribs. He then readied his stance and charged his four remaining opponents.

--

As the blood rained down like the dew, Sean breathed out heavily. He slowly turned. The pair of eyes that were looking at him widened in shock and the form leapt from its perch and headed off at a rapid pace deep into the forest.

Sean turned and galloped after it.

--

Razell needed to report, this was inexcusable. This unit's strength had increased dramatically, its control more absolute than a week ago. His superiors needed information. While the higher-ups had been able to respond to the anguish of the Devold, such telepathic contact over distance would, by rumour, weaken them sufficiently. It was up to him to alert the outpost.

He could feel Death approaching him, its horned visage eating up the distance.

Not much further. Maybe he could lose the Guyver.

Suddenly pain erupted in his lower leg. Falling face first into the leaves the creature looked to see the carapace around its knee shattered, thick blood pouring into the dirt.

Dragging himself forward, still attempting to move to his destination, Razell's other kneecap was blow into pulp.

He rolled over to see the Devil itself stalking out of the fog to stand above him. The Guyver leaned down and grabbed Razell by the throat. "What's the hurry bug-boy?"

Razell grabbed the Guyver by the back of the head and drove his shelled head into his chest. Falling backwards, the Guyver let Razell go, giving him a second of being airborne. Grabbing a branch, Razell, single-mindedly began to swing through the trees.

A chilling laugh echoed through the forest as Razell's forearm exploded. Landing heavily and rolling over its destroyed legs, Razell looked up to see the Guyver, sparks emitting from his forehead.

The laser.

--

Sean straightened up. Persistent, kinda like a cockroach. Sean looked along the path the Razell had been following. With nothing better to do at present and mildly annoyed, Sean headed off into the underbrush.

Coming upon a clearing, Sean looked down into what could best be described as a crater. A large rectangular building stretched the main distance of its width, and most of its height. Sean was speechless. The building was a buzz with activity; the majority of individual's dressed in black body suits with grey pads. Some few where dressed in white lab coats.

Obviously something was going on that they didn't like.

The Guyver grinned.

He stepped off the edge of the crater.

--

The East Cape of New Zealand is sparsely populated. With many coastal villages, however there are not many really large settlements inland.

If there had been, the large ball of flame that erupted into the sky like a burst gas-line would have been noticed quicker.

From within this fireball, a dull red object, man sized, sped towards Auckland and civilization.

--

"Sir, we have lost contact with the New Zealand facility!"

"Explain."

"Sir, the signal was lost only moments ago, after word was sent that units should be dispatched to divert the attention of the Guyver."

The shrouded figure sat there. A dim glow appeared where his forehead would be, a diamond shaped crystal, red, like it was made of blood. The crystal began to almost audibly sing, as the figure pushed its telepathic powers towards New Zealand. It was difficult. To establish contact at such as distance was tiring; to do so twice was almost foolhardy.

After a steady two minutes of glowing the crystal flickered and the figure slumped forward, head bowed.

The figure raised its head. Silvery grey hair, almost white, crowned the head of the figure, its bald spot almost like a tonsure. The red crystal embedded in the forehead pulsed slowly and the figure straightened, its grey beard falling to cascade over its knees. The man then opened his eyes, a violent blue in colour, like the sky.

"The facility has been decimated. No survivors."

The figure was not happy. It had managed to latch onto a mind before the psyche left its body. The devastation was total. Already weakened from one possession, this mind had tried to pull him into the Abyss with it.

Snapping his fingers, the room emptied in an instant.

--

Alighting gently upon the roof, Sean recalled the unit. Glancing over the sparkling lights of Auckland, Sean marvelled at the beauty. Ironic how the metaphor itself not only reflected man but his creations.

Opening the access door, Sean quietly began his descent into the building.

Stopping at a door, he quietly placed his shoulder against the lock and braced his hands against the jam. Forcing his shoulder into the door, Sean pushed.

He fell onto the floor.

The door had been unlocked. Jumping up quickly, he scanned the room with his eyes. The place had been ransacked. There was also white dust over the phone, computer and other surfaces. Obviously the police had dusted for prints and 'the company' had trashed the place looking for information.

Sean wandered into the kitchenette. Nothing visible to tell him if Travis had his message. Sean hit the answer machine.

His voice echoed back at him, cold and digital.

Sean's stomach growled. Walking over to the refrigerator, Sean opened the door with his sleeve and looked inside. Beer. Check. Bread. Check. Cheese. Check. Throwing together a rough couple of sandwiches, Sean cracked open the beer and began the unofficial tour.

--

Ten minutes later Sean still had no idea where Travis had gone. It was beginning to frustrate him. Cursing under his breath, Sean slumped into the couch. Out of the corner of his eye, Sean saw the compact disc he had leant Rei the other week.

What was it doing here?

Hauling himself out of the couch with a grunt, Sean walked over and picked up the CD. A note fell out. It simply said:

EMAIL

Sean placed the CD into the lining of the trenchcoat with the files and chugged the rest of his beer. He placed the can in the rubbish and left.

--

Sometime later, an exhausted Sean Barker walked into a cyber cafe in Christchurch, New Zealand. Handing the uninterested employee five dollars, he grabbed his coffee and sat down at a computer sitting against the wall.

Quickly typing in the URL, Sean entered his username and password. He had three new messages. Two of the message where the usual 'interested-in-something-at-one-stage-so-sign-up-then-get-bored-and-don't-unregister' bollocks and one was from an unknown address.

Opening the message it read: "Gone home. Mail in week."

Sean sat there looking at the four words for a few minutes. Travis wasn't at his apartment, so that wasn't it. The post date had been five days ago, about a day or two after the call, so there would be another in two days.

Gone home?

Sean snapped his fingers, drained his coffee and logged off.

England?

--

Part Nine - The Big OE

--

Sean landed quietly outside Sydney, Australia. He was exhausted. The flight from Tokyo and then all this jumping around the South Pacific had worn him down. Sho had warned him that the armour only boosted what the body could provide.

Sean's body couldn't provide.

Sean looked around. Not much was happening. It was about midnight and the beach was deserted apart from a couple of vagrants sleeping up on the benches running along the esplanade.

Sean recalled the armour and rummaged through his pockets. Some Yen and a few New Zealand dollars as well as some lint.

No money essentially.

Inspiration striking him, Sean called the armour and praying to any gods listening for strength, he jetted off into the night.

--

Paul Barker was a twenty-two year-old outdoor adventure guide. He was one of the best. He had left New Zealand when he turned eighteen and had made a name for himself on the Gold Coast as an extreme sports guide, frightening the daylights, and on a couple of occasions, even the shit, out of his clients.

He was what people described as a "fucking nutter". He did not like being woken at two in the morning. This was happening now.

The banging on the door had accelerated into his consciousness and now he was pissed. Stomping down the corridor, dressed in boxer shorts and large outdoor boots he threw the door open.

Quite surprisingly he was greeted by the sight of his older brother, looking rather out of it.

Sean raised his hand and collapsed over the doorstep.

Cursing his brother, and his children to be, Paul dragged him into the house.

--

Paul entered the house. It was nearing dusk, and his day's clients were happy. Paul was not. He had been unable to wake his brother and wasn't able to sleep himself, so he just dumped his brother on the sofa and wrote a note and left for work.

Now, twelve hours later, Paul entered his house to find his brother busy over the stove, cooking what looked to be a huge meal.

Sean turned and was about to greet his brother when Paul punched him squarely in the mouth.

"What the fuck were you trying to pull you dipshit, all this shit going down!"

"Can I explain?" said Sean rubbing his chin.

"You'd fucking better!"

"Sit and eat and I'll explain."

Not happy about this, Paul sat down anyway and began glaring at his older brother. Sean placed the food on the table and took his seat.

Paul just glared some more.

"I didn't kill them." Sean said simply.

Paul continued glaring.

Sean sighed deeply and began, "Well bro, its a long story..."

And he began.

--

"You expect me to believe that load of horse shit!" yelled an incredulous Paul.

"Basically, yeah."

"You must have lost your fucking mind! Monsters, alien body armour, conspiracy theories. Crap bro, I told you the Internet would rot your fucking mind!"

Sean feeling generally better about things in general after a good sleep and a huge feed, stood up and beckoned his brother to follow him.

Paul reluctantly rose, shaking his head. He wanted to believe his brother, Sean wasn't the type to make shit like this up. And Paul definitely couldn't see his brother killing their parents.

The beach was deserted, this being the time, most were either eating dinner or heading to the pub. Sean continued walking around a small headland. Paul, intrigued despite himself followed.

Sean rounded the corner and muttered under his breath.

--

Four pints later and all Paul could say was still, "No fucking way."

Sean shook his head and asked Paul if he wanted to see it again.

Paul shook his head, dismissing the idea and shaking himself from the shock of what his brother had shown him.

"Its pretty incredible."

"You're telling me." replied Sean, glad to have gained his down to earth brothers support.

"So what do you plan to do?" asked Paul.

"Well I am expecting an email in twelve or so hours, telling me where to meet Travis. I know it's in England but I don't know where."

"You had better head to the city and catch a plane, then."

"No need." said Sean, tapping his forehead.

Paul shuddered and glared at his brother, warning him not to continue.

Sean laughed then said, "Well I was going to head straight there, but I reckon the bad guys will find a way to track me so I guess a paper trail is in order."

"You mean like Hansel and Gretel?" asked Paul, finishing the fifth pint. Sean was only half finished his first.

"Yeah basically, pop up in different cities, make some noise and bugger off again."

"Why?" asked Paul, knowing the reason but wanting his brother to think it through. Sean always had been one to think, but more often then not, left bits out when he started getting around to it.

"Confusion."

"Sounds good. You gonna head back here or are ya gonna head on to London."

"I don't know," replied Sean, "I don't really wanna put you at risk, and I should get there pretty damn quick. I do need you to ring Helena though and warn her about being careful."

"Why didn't you just warn her yourself when you were in New Zealand?"

"The monsters were tracking me so I just jumped about, broke their toys and got the hell gone."

"So you better get going."

Sean stood, and he brother followed suit. Going to shake hands they clasped each other in a massive hug.

"See ya bro," said Sean turning to leave.

"Later bro." replied Paul, sitting down and resting his head in his hands.

--

Jakarta.

Seoul.

Bali.

Sean landed in Kobe. He was hungry. He had flown over the main shopping district of the cities before and had made sure he had been spotted. He hadn't recognized any of the shouts aimed at him but was pretty sure he was being tracked now. Landing quietly in an alleyway, Sean recalled the armour and walked onto the main street. The sea of people opened up around him, his tall thick frame a rare sight. Finding a noodle vendor that looked halfway decent, Sean ordered some ramen and began to eat.

Two helpings later and his Yen were all gone. The noodle vendor was surprised that the gaijin had eaten so much.

Sean thanked him and made to leave. A man banged into him, cursing him and running of into the mass of humanity. Seconds later, the local police ran through.

Sean, an idea striking him, returned to his alley, bio-morphed and took to the sky.

It was a simple task to find the guy that had pushed him.

Sean judged where the man was likely to run and positioned himself on a cross path. Using his laser to dislodge a trashcan, the criminal looked back. Taking his cue, Sean landed in the alley directly in front of the man looking over his shoulder.

The man ran straight into the armoured bulk of Sean and crashed to the ground.

He looked up as he pulled a wicked looking knife and dropped it as his fingers went numb. All he could see was a red figure, shrouded in the mist rising from the damp early pre-dawn alleyway. The figure was crowned with horns and spikes protruded from positions over its body.

The figure's eyes glowed an eerie blue while steam escaped from its frightening looking maw.

"EVIL." it said. To the thief, it was more of a hiss. He didn't understand English. Sean was thankful that Sho and his friends had had a better than rudimentary grasp.

The man jumped up, and as the figure went to grab his throat, shrieked and ran back the way he had come.

Sean looked down at the small cash box and picked it up. He began to walk after the man. The police had the man by the back against the wall. The little man saw Sean and began to shriek again. Sean flashed his head laser and the little man fainted. The police turned and saw Sean. Horror crossing their faces they drew their guns and emptied their cartridges at the red devil.

Sparks illuminated the alley briefly before dying in the damp. The police, seeing the figure still standing through the haze of cordite, looked at each other, turned and ran.

Sean shrugged and disappeared into the chill sky.

--

Baghdad.

Cairo.

Adelaide. Sean was lucky, the bank's had just opened. Walking into the closest one, unarmoured, he changed his Yen for Pounds. Stuffing the crisp money into an inner pocket, he left and walked into an alleyway. He didn't walk out.

Cape Town.

Miami. Sean made a mental note to remember to go back, they had nice coffee and croissants.

Finally, after accumulating a substantial amount of money from the unsavoury elements of the cities he had visited and leaving a lasting impression on the local constabulary, Sean decided it was about time to head to London.

However, he would check his mail first.

Kansas City seemed nice. But then Sean was overwhelmed with all the cities he had seen in the last twelve hours. Recalling the armour and stepping out into the street, he made his way through the throngs of mid-morning shoppers. Spying what he was looking for, Sean entered the smallish cafe.

Behind the counter, a large well built man stood. He had longish black hair pulled back and a neatly trimmed goatee. He smiled at Sean, as he approached.

"G'day, coffee mate?"

"Mate?" said Sean. "You aren't no Yank are ya?"

The few customers glared at Sean. He ignored them.

"Nah," replied the man, "Kiwi, born and bred, name's Reuben." extending his hand.

"Sean." replied Sean, grasping the man's hand.

"What can I get for you?" asked Reuben.

"Coffee and a PC." replied Sean.

Reuben motioned Sean over to an empty machine and told him the coffee would be ready in a tick.

Sean sat down and began to enter his codes. No new mail.

Shit.

Checking the previous mail, Sean realized he was early, so he sat back and waited.

Reuben walked up and handed Sean a huge cup of coffee. Sean reached for his wallet. Reuben stayed his hand saying, "No need, us Kiwi's gotta stick together."

Sean smiled and sniffed the coffee. He recognized the smell.

"Greggs Red Ribbon Roast, its instant but its home."

Sean grinned. He liked this guy. Placing his coffee down, he went over to the counter and started chatting with him. Several minutes later, newly purchased cigarette hanging off his lip, Sean returned to the machine and his now drinkable coffee.

One new mail.

It simply read "Claridges."

"Ohhh, swanky." cooed Sean, logging out.

Nodding to Reuben, Sean left the cyber cafe.

--

The Trans-Atlantic winds were quite strong. Sean, not really having the energy to hurry, simply drifted. Speeding up slightly, he could see England appearing on the horizon.

--

Part Ten - A New Player

--

"And then the guy fainted. I went to give the cashbox to the cops and they took one look at me and ran!"

Travis, Rei and Hugo all began laughing. They had ordered room service after Sean had appeared, and all had been happy to see him. Rei had not let go of his arm since he arrived. For that reason alone he was glad he had brought new clothes, got a haircut and cleaned up at a cheap motel.

Hugo was about to make a comment, after looking at Rei sidelong for some time. She silenced him with a look and Travis began to laugh.

Sean looked quizzically at Travis.

"What's so funny about a cyber cafe owner in Kansas?"

"Oh, not that just..." Travis stopped.

Rei was looking at him, although glaring was probably a better term.

Sean shrugging his shoulders, continued:

"So after all that, I headed over here, got myself cleaned up and here I am. Which also begs the question, why are you here?"

"Well, because you told us too." said Hugo.

Sean just looked at him.

"And because Travis managed to convince the faculty of the University. That we could do some research for our archaeology papers," he continued.

Travis, now composed, began to speak, "After all this you seem to be a lot more collected and in control then the last time we saw you."

Sean blushed.

"It was just that you seemed to be coming apart slightly," Travis continued, "and frankly, boy, it had us worried."

"Yeah, talking with Sho, and having some time helped out a bit," Sean said. "They did the same to him as well, trying to make him nuts, except they turned his old man into a monster and cos he couldn't fight back against what was once his father he got killed."

Three incredulous faces stared at Sean.

"It works like this right, the unit is like a symbiotic organism, we feed it bio-energy and it helps us to do things. It also has a preservation mechanism it incorporates, because without a host it becomes dormant. From the host's bio-matter it can apparently regenerate the host, with little or no side-effects."

The looks continued.

Sean stood up, "Not like I'm willing to give that a go." He stretched and walked off towards his room, "Night all."

The three sat there, trying to take on the information they had heard over the entire evening, not to mention that final kicker.

--

Mid morning in Japan, and he was not happy. His superior was quite annoyed with the loss of the New Zealand facility and the destruction of the experimental geo-thermic converters.

A tinny 'ding' sounded and the figure mentally prodded the button on the intercom.

"Your ten o'clock is here, Doctor."

"Send her in." he replied, his gravelly voice sounding like the death of rock.

A red haired beauty, dressed in a tight fitting black suit, entered the room, her loose ponytail swishing in the air behind her. She walked boldly to the front of the desk the man sat behind and stood to attention, executing a crisp salute.

"Agent." the man said simply, nodding his head once in greeting.

"Doctor Balcus, Sir." she replied, her voice rich, like a good cup of Vienna coffee.

"I assume you are fully briefed on what the mission entails and the risks involved."

"Yes Sir."

"And you wish to proceed nonetheless."

"Indeed Sir."

"Excellent." the doctor said rising from his seat. He and the red haired woman left the room by the private elevator.

--

The red haired woman had read the files extensively. The project titled 'Regen', was a new step for the Chronos Corporation. Usually, failed experimentation was destroyed and begun anew, the Projects 'Lost Number' and 'Enzyme' being examples. This was different.

After the capture of some of Aptom's bio-matter in a battle with a group of Enzyme Mark 3's, it was deduced that his regenerative properties where a delayed side effect from his conception and the various upgrades he had subjected himself too. This bio-matter, turned into a bacta of sorts was stimulated in various ways, establishing optimum condition for the process of regeneration.

Once that was established and optimum conditions verified, Chronos played its trump card.

For months the object of Project Regen had been submerged in the vat of bacta, the bio-regenerative effects taking their slow and steady time to accomplish their objective.

It was a gamble. Odds were that either the object would destroy the bacta or vice versa or that the aim would be accomplished. The destruction of either component would be unthinkable, due to the extreme rarity in which they existed. Luckily the test scenarios all pointed to success.

She was snapped from her revelry as she and the doctor neared the steel door at the end of the corridor. It was unmarked, yet was guarded by two hulking men.

As they entered, the room could be seen clearly, descending in tier's to the center, upon which stood a containment unit, reminiscent of a liquid nitrogen store.

The doctor stopped and motioned that she should continue down the tiers. He, himself moved off to the side, where a small group of technicians were grouped behind some shielding.

As she reached the bottom, a voice echoed through the room over a loud speaker.

"Deactivate the containment unit and pull the carriage up."

Donning a rubber glove that extended to her elbow, she did as told, flicking the green switch, and releasing a fount of steam from the edges of the seal. Gripping the handle she pulled the carriage up. Bathed in a greenish pink light was a glass receptacle, in which sat a small metallic object, about the size of the bottom of a coke can, surrounded by a mass of grey tentacle like fibres of varying thickness.

Removing the lid of the glass receptacle and submerging her gloved hand into the ooze, she removed the object. It had worked. Placing the object it the other hand she removed the glove and began cradling the object in both hands. Its metallic orb winked at her.

Its tentacles exploded.

Behind the shielding, the doctor grinned. It had worked, the hunch had worked. The damaged unit had been regenerated, giving them the edge. The renegade units would pay.

Down on the floor, the red haired woman was encompassed in an indigo violet looking unit, a single back sweeping vibration blade on each arm and a singular fin on her head. The control metal looked somewhat larger, and the armour plating in different patterns to that of the other active units. It was also definitely female.

The unit's wearer was somewhat taken aback. She had expected the golden luminescence that had enveloped the previous owner, and the reason she had agreed to become a part of Project Regen. Her father's murderer would pay. With his life.

Her laughter echoed throughout the room.

--

Sean's sleep was rough, haunted by images that were not his, overshadowed by an echoing laugh. He awoke in a cold sweat.

Rubbing his eyes, and shaking the disturbing residue from his conscience he turned to the bedside table to check the time.

The feminine form of Rei was curled in the large plush armchair.

A small smile curled the edge of Sean's lips, as he stood up and gently scooped the girl into his arms. She mumbled in her sleep, yet did not wake. Sean placed her softly into his bed and pulled the sheets over her. After a moment of indecision, he kissed her forehead and grabbed a robe, closing the door to the room as he left.

Her eyes cracking open slightly, Rei looked at the door closing, smiled and drifted off to sleep.

--

Sean was in the shower, washing away the final lingering touches of his nightmare, the hot water pummelling his body like liquid acupuncture. His mind, wandering, was startled when he heard Sho's voice reverberating around in his head.

"Sean?"

"Holy fuck!" screeched Sean, slipping over and hitting his head. "Ow."

Shaking his head and standing up, he replied "Sho?"

"Sean?"

Sean, realizing what was missing, turned off the shower, and steeped out, wrapping the towel around his waist.

"Guyver." he said, the red bioorganic armour surrounding his body and heightening his senses.

"Sho, what can I do for you?"

"Hope I haven't disturbed you Sean."

"Not really, its just morning here, but you did get me out of the shower."

"Sorry my friend, but we may have a problem."

"And what's that?"

"Agito 'called' me, apparently he got some information from a source and got a similar warning to when you joined our unique club, so to speak."

"You're shittin me?" replied Sean incredulous.

"No, I am not. Apparently we have another Guyver out there." Sho replied.

--

When Sho Fukamachi had been startled from his sleep, albeit late, by Agito Makishima, he had leapt out of bed.

When Sho Fukamachi had heard what Agito Makishima had to say, he swore a lot.

While Sho Fukamachi waited to contact Sean Barker, he had thought about what Agito Makishima had told him. And swore some more.

When Sho Fukamachi had told Sean Barker what had happened, Sean Barker had sworn a lot.

Yes, all in all a productive day.

--

Sean burst out of the bathroom, partially dry and pulling the robe on, modestly thrown aside for speed. "Fucking damn fuckers!" he bellowed as he went over to the bags of clothes he had purchased yesterday.

"Damn shitty arsed fuckers!" he continued as he pulled the clothes on.

Hugo and Travis entered the room, jostling to be the first through the door, stopping to hear Sean continue.

Rei stumbled out of Sean's bedroom, awoken by his potty mouth.

Sean looked at them and simply threw his bags to the ground, dressed simply in jeans.

"Fuck!" he said again. He then grabbed his bags off the floor and entered his bedroom.

Travis, Rei and Hugo simply looked at each other, then the closed door that led to Sean's room.

Continued swearing could be heard through the wood.

--

The gymnasium of Claridges of London was taking a beating. Sean Barker, by no means a fighter, was lost in a haze of anger, almost berserk on negative emotions.

Kick, punch, kick-punch, knee, elbow.

These singular motions became as regular as his heartbeat.

Travis watched from the doorway. He had been standing here for some time, watching the young man, clad in track pants and singlet, teeth clenched and soaked in sweat, pounding away on a sawdust filled bag.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he said aloud.

Sean snapped his head to the side to see Travis leaning against the door jam. The punching bag swung and hit him in the side. He didn't flinch.

Travis pulled off his sweatshirt, a black sleeveless t-shirt underneath. Below that he wore track pants and bare feet. He walked over to Sean and passed him by, walking towards a locker. Opening it he removed those sparring glove padded punchy things.

Placing them on his hands he walked over to Sean and assumed a fighting stance.

"Lets go!" he barked.

Sean readied himself and let loose a flurry of kicks and punches.

Travis took this punishment with calm fortitude.

--

A little over an hour later, the pair sat quietly, their deep ragged breathing the only sound to be heard.

"So," panted Travis, trying to catch his breath, "what was, all this, about?"

"There, a new, Guyver," replied Sean, "and its, apparently, Chronos, controlled."

"Fucking damn bastards!" bellowed Travis gaining a second wind and climbing to his feet. He then began pounding the punching bag with his huge fists.

Sean looked at him, fell over backwards and began laughing.

It was then that Hugo and Rei opened the doors of the gymnasium. Travis had sent them off earlier to find information about any tours that afternoon to any interesting archaeological sites round about, partially because the pretense of them being in England was a field trip, the other being to keep Rei occupied so she couldn't worry about Sean. It had been a tiring week for Travis and Hugo, just trying to reassure the girl that Sean was fine.

Sean's nearly losing his mind and her worry about him had brought her feelings for him to the surface.

Both she and Hugo looked on as the large professor belted the crap out of the punching bag and the blonde man lay rolling on the mats laughing at him.

Sean stood up, brushed himself off and looked over at Hugo and Rei.

"Chronos have their own Guyver." he said, matter of factly.

Hugo turned and kicked the door jam, saying the work "fuck" repeatedly under his breath.

Rei simply seemed to loose all feeling in her legs as she slumped to the floor.

Sean ran to her and caught her in his arms. Tears ran down her cheeks, as she wept, mumbling into Sean shoulder, "Why us?"

--

It was just before lunchtime. Sean, freshly showered and wearing a pair of tight dark jeans, a white t-shirt and a thick brown and grey knit jersey stood out of the balcony that lead off from their set of rooms at Claridges of London.

Rei was right, and he knew the answer. Why us, she had said. Him. That was the answer, because of him. Sean had decided something there and then, cradling the girl in his arms. No one would harm his friends. He had enough trouble making them to start with. He liked these people and they liked him, they had stuck with him through all this shit and by God he was gonna make sure they got out okay.

He dragged on his cigarette deeply. Chronos could throw all they wanted too at him. Mess with his friends and then they would be bringing down the thunder.

He exhaled sharply, drawing again of the cigarette.

"Lunch is here man!" he heard Hugo call from the main room.

Taking another drag, Sean flicked the cigarette butt over the balcony railing and into the air.

--

Part Eleven: Myths and Legends

--

Lunch was nice. A big feed, which suited the morning's athletics quite nicely. They had all packed a small amount of belongings for their overnight excursion and where currently sitting down enjoying the warm afterglow of the meal and the sweet aroma of coffee that wafted from the carafe.

"So guys, where is this 'mystery trip' too?" questioned Sean, interested in where and what Hugo and Rei had gotten them into.

"Well," supplied Hugo, "we have heard you both discussing it after class and at other times so we figured we might as well hook ourselves up with this tour that leaves from downstairs in twenty minutes."

Sean and Travis, who was in lieu of cigarettes, quietly stuffing his pipe, glanced at each other.

"Stonehenge? Glastonbury?" they said in unison.

"Both!" replied Rei and Hugo simultaneously.

Humouring the pair, Sean and Travis stood up and linked arms, dancing in a circle.

Hugo and Rei began laughing at the dancing pair.

Sean looked at Travis. "Smoke before we leave?" he asked.

"Yep," replied Travis walking toward the balcony

Rei and Hugo watched the pair close the balcony doors behind them and lean their elbows on the railing, the word "tor" drifting through the cracks of the door.

Hugo raised himself from his chair and began clearing the service trays away, placing them back on the trolley.

Rei looked at Sean's back. She liked the way it filled his jersey. She made a note in her head to do something about the smoking though.

--

Nearing three in the afternoon, the bus was eating up the miles. Travis and Hugo had taken seats on one side of the bus, Sean and Rei the other. There were very few people in this tour, another twenty or so besides them.

Travis and Hugo had elected to sleep, Rei following suit shortly after. Sean had tried, but a nagging feeling had kept him on the edge between sleep and wakefulness. Finally giving up any attempt to even doze, he had taken to watching the scenery drift by, the downs a miasma of muted colours, dulled by the slate grey of the sky.

After some time, grooves of trees and fences made of stacked stone got repetitious so Sean took to looking at the other tourists. Nothing really interesting there, mostly middle aged Americans. Sean's eyes wandered to the girl seated next to him, partially curled up and her head almost resting on Sean's shoulder.

As Sean looked at her he began to think. He really hadn't had time to think like he was now, over the last several weeks. He was interested in Rei. He had been since he had first spoken to her. She had a fire; a feistiness that attracted him, yet she was also vulnerable which made him want to protect her.

He realized suddenly that part of the reason he had been so bloody-minded of late was so he could make sure she was okay.

"Its thinking like that, that causes the trouble boy." he heard.

Sean looked across the aisle to see Travis, arms folded across his chest, one eye cracked open to look at Sean.

Sean was about to speak, when Travis raised a finger to his lips motioning Sean to be quiet.

"Don't wake her," Travis continued, "just listen. I can see it in your eyes lad, and yes it always causes trouble. And she thinks of you the same, I can tell. I think she realized what you realized now, when she found out you had left for Auckland without us. She fancied you beforehand, that was obvious. But she loves you know."

Sean's mouth fell open.

"Yes, lad. Love. She cried every night while we waited to see if you were okay, she hasn't really slept since you left for Tokyo. Hugo and I have spent most of the time convincing her you were okay. Let her rest."

Almost as if signalling an end to the conversation, Travis closed his eye and wiggled his shoulders into the chair behind him.

Sean looked down at Rei. It was true. He should have seen it, even considering his luck with the fairer sex. A smile crept across his face when he realized she had actually watched him sleep last night, making sure he was okay. Sean's resolve was furthermore set at that moment. His desire to protect his friends became an almost palpable entity.

Rei muttered something and her head fell sideways onto Sean's shoulder. Gently moving his free hand to brush her hair from her face, Sean leaned back and closed his eyes in thought.

He was snoring shortly after.

--

The bus pulled up noisily on the gravel, the tourists and their guide snapped from sleep. The guide, a tall dark haired man called Phillip, was not impressed with himself. Falling asleep on the job and all. Looking down the back towards the end of the bus and seeing that his passengers where all exhibiting various states of disorientation and yawning, he felt better.

Clearing his throat, he announced "Stonehenge, everybody off please!"

Various mumbling and a quiet curse from Travis replied to this but the passengers nevertheless disembarked.

Shaking Rei awake, Sean motioned for her to get off the bus. Sleepily complying she wandered down the aisle and off the bus. Sean followed suit, his hands already digging in his pockets for his cigarettes.

Stepping off, he still hadn't found them. A tap on his shoulder, bought Sean's attention back to reality, and showed Hugo holding his cigarettes.

"They were on the seat mate," he said.

Sean grinned sheepishly and fished a somewhat squashed cigarette out of the packet. Lighting it he leaned up against the bus.

He noticed that Travis was speaking to the guide, and that the guide seemed to be agreeing to whatever Travis had said. Phillip signalled the tour group and they moved off.

Travis walked over to his students, Rei sitting cross-legged on the asphalt quietly, Hugo squatting against the bus and Sean leaning against it, yawning loudly.

"Alright boys and girl, lets take care of business, first things first etcetera and all that."

"Coffee," replied Sean, stumbling off towards the small set of buildings, Stonehenge itself crowning the hills in the distance.

--

That dealt with, the quartet were strolling up the hillside towards the monolith structure.

Travis in full lecture began, "Stonehenge is arguably one of the oldest structures on the planet, with many stories and theories existing as to who, why and how it was built as well as what for. Stonehenge is an enigma, but undoubtedly it was a place of worship..."

Travis's speech tapered off quickly as they came within the shadow of the ancient stone circle. Sean could not deny the feeling this place exuded. It was ancient, centuries like minutes to this grand place. Yet it had also a sense of reverence, similar to the feeling Sean got whenever he crossed the threshold of a church. While by no means religious, Sean could somehow recognize places of power and holiness.

Awestruck the four stared at the large blocks and arches.

Travis finally broke the silence, his voice an awed whisper "No matter how many times I come here, it always makes me feel humbled."

The others could but nod.

--

Back on the bus and heading towards Glastonbury, Sean was locked in conversation with Phillip, the tour guide.

"So what's with all the ropes and cordons and stuff?" Sean asked.

"Its to keep souvenir hunters out mainly," replied Phil, "a lot like to pick bits off the landscape and take it home, so Stonehenge was becoming a kit set."

"Oh well that I can understand," replied Sean, "seems a shame though, it must be almost a religious experience to stand in the center."

"It is." replied Phil, "I had the opportunity to do it once when the fences and shit weren't up and its almost magical. Its understandable why the Druids consider it scared and took the owner of the land to court."

"How so?" asked Sean.

"Well, the owner of the land didn't want a lot of people traipsing all over his land at all times of the day and night. So there was this big legal thing, because the Druids laid a centuries old claim on the land as a temple, and the government got involved..."

The pair continued talking, as the road passed under the bus, and the sun sank behind the hills of the Summer Land.

--

The moon shone down on the road. The distant Glastonbury Tor was crowned by her silver elegance. Sean was deep in thought. He had been so for sometime now, his mind skipping over the legends circulating the distant hill and his own circumstances of late, not least his budding feelings for the quiet girl who slept beside him. Sean sighed and looked at the church, its steeple almost slicing the moon in two.

His eyes snapped fully open. Someone had called him, he was sure of it, not his name but calling him. This unnerved him.

The bus pulled up into the township of Glastonbury, outside the inn, in which the group would stay. As the passengers disembarked, Sean stepped off the bus and walked aside a ways. He looked up at the tor, the voice becoming stronger, more insistent, like an itch he couldn't reach to scratch.

Shaking the feeling off, Sean turned and entered the inn, the temptation to turn and look at the tor, almost unbearable.

--

The early morning crispness in the mountains of central Hokkaido did not affect the woman. She sat, clad in a black and grey bodysuit, her fiery red hair streaming behind her in the wind, her mind deep in a state of meditation.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, their chill blue gaze, seemingly complementing the temperature and not just her heart.

A call, distant and faint, yet persistent, a summons.

Standing quietly, she summoned the purple pink armour that was now a part of her, as it had been her father before. Rising gently off the ground, she flew in a lazy arc towards the coast of Russia and the city of Vladivostok.

The few stones she had dislodged tumbled gently down the sides of her perch, caressing the mountainside like a lover's kiss.

--

He had been having trouble sleeping, worried about the information that had been relayed to him by Agito. He had slept some, but the fog of fatigue clung to his brain.

Standing from the table, he entered the kitchenette of Natsuki's apartment, and began to clean up the remains of the late breakfast he had shared with his friends.

Their chatter took on a hollow tone as Sho felt his senses heighten. His eyes snapped wide open. A call, a summons, a clarion. It rung through his head like he was in a large bell.

Gripping the sides of his head, he fell to his knees, his senses overloading.

Then as quickly as it had begun, it had passed. Standing, wobbly on his feet, he gripped the bench for support. Mizuki, upon hearing the bowls crash to the ground, had followed him.

"Sho, what's the matter?" she asked, rushing to his side and placing her hand on his shoulder.

"I don't, really, know." Sho managed to say between his ragged breaths.

Clarity descending on Sho. He could feel a pulse, a vibration, similar to when he or Agito were near, or he and Sean were together. He knew almost immediately after this train of thought passed through his mind what was going on.

"I have to go," he said, heading towards the bathroom, "the shit's about to hit the fan."

--

She had landed in Vladivostok. A dark alleyway allowed her to quickly resume her human form, and quickly she entered the building through a side entrance.

The guards simply watched her pass. Her clearance was Alpha Two. She smirked at their sideways glances. She could kill them simply anyhow, they could not have stopped her.

Walking down the corridor quickly, the staccato clacking of her boots provided a counter-rhythm to her heartbeat. Walking up to the door at the end of the hallway, she placed her hand upon the infrared panel.

A click sounded and steam filled the corridor as the door opened. Stepping quietly into the room, she activated the video data-link terminal.

"Agent Valkyre." the speaker could not take the tomb-like edge off the voice.

"Doctor, I received a 'call', so to speak, a summons. I intend to follow the directions. I believe that a Guyver unit is originating this call, Sir."

"You believe?" the doctor replied.

"Sir, upon bio-morphing the unit I bear seemed to want to head across the Asian continent, I believe it is being drawn to the source of the call."

"Your tone, does little to please me." The doctor barked. "Nonetheless, follow this 'call' as you call it, to its origin. Under no circumstances will you involve either Guyver One or Guyver Three in combat. However if the Red Unit is present and alone, it may be wise to test drive your new toy."

"Understood Sir. Guyver Two out."

She turned the video link off and cracked her knuckles. A warm up on the red, before she took on that bastard Fukamachi. What fun.

--

Agito Makishima was busy in his base of operations, going through recent surveillance footage of some of Chronos' operations in the United States. His Zeus Taskforce had become a major thorn in the side of Chronos America. His control of the Giga allowed him an edge that his 'counterparts' in Japan did not have. He was only half-paying attention to the papers before him, his mind wandering and examining the problem with this wild card Sean Barker. The papers before him indicated that Barker had been in the United States as recently as three days ago, with stopovers in Miami and Kansas City. Agito did not like this man. He had never met him, yet his appearance threw a large spanner in the Dark Guyver's plans.

Agito's eyes snapped open. A call. Calling him and the other units, almost a compulsion.

It was a cry for help. Agito swore. Barker. Barker had to have done something, set something off.

Agito rose from his desk, and left his office. He stood over the main floor and called down to his second in command.

"I am leaving for some time. A business matter has come up. Prepare the Giga and await contact."

"Yes sir, Mr. Makishima!"

As Agito walked towards the ladder that led to the roof and the skies, his lieutenant walked to the basement hatch. Opening the door and descending the steps, he made sure that the Giga Unit was resting in its cradle.

The large flat-topped egg shaped bio-organ was untouched and unmoving.

He seated himself in the solitary chair and waited.

--

Sleep flitted about Sean's face but never landed. He sat up, pissed off. He was all sweaty and aggravated now. The call he had heard was getting stronger, more insistent, harder to ignore.

Throwing the covers off and walking to the bathroom, he turned the shower on, and let the water heat up.

The hot needles caressed his body, the drumming of the water against the walls of the shower stall, quieting the ceaseless call.

Dripping wet, he stood by the window, looking towards the tor. The call intensified into a muted scream of pain.

Swearing under his breath, Sean walked to the balcony door. Opening it he threw his towel to the floor and bio-morphed. Taking a series of deep breaths he vaulted over the railing and headed off down the main street, the tor towering above him.

From the darkness, a spark could be seen, followed by a puff of smoke as Travis steeped from the shadows, cigarette in hand.

"Why does that give me a bad feeling?" he asked of the night in general and no one in particular. If he expected an answer, he didn't receive one.

--

Sean stood near the well on the crown of Glastonbury Tor. The well where Joseph of Arimathea had supposedly stood, pouring the divine blood of Christ from the Holy Grail. The call continued. Into the church.

Sean slowly walked towards the church, the call becoming louder, more insistent still.

Crushing the large padlock in his fist and pushing open the large doors, Sean stood in wonder as the moonlight played through the stained glass windows and onto the floor of the cathedral.

Some legends had it that Arthur, The Pendragon, was buried here. The call still echoing through his skull, Sean moved down the aisle towards the altar, his armoured feet tapping against the flags.

--

High above France, the purple form of Valerie Risker, soared through the skies.

As the call increased in intensity so did her speed. The English Channel came into her vision upon the horizon.

--

Sho Fukamachi flew at breakneck speeds over the German countryside, France coming up underneath him. Off in the distance he could see movement, thanks to his heightened eyesight.

Swearing under his breath, Sho poured on the speed, the miles becoming blurred flashes beneath his speeding form.

--

Agito Makishima flew leisurely over the Atlantic Ocean, a mixture of night and day covering the sky. The coast of Wales would be coming into sight soon.

Maybe his problems would sort themselves out.

--

Sean Barker, The Guyver, stood behind the altar looking down the aisle, out the doors and into the night. He stood, transfixed, as a song of joy and triumph enveloped him in a joyous air.

Stepping back and praying for forgiveness, Sean squatted and ripped out the flagstones directly behind the altar. The foot thick slabs, each six-foot across, were mind-bogglingly heavy, yet Sean managed to move them. Placing them stacked to one side he looked down into the inky blackness that seemed to yawn below him.

Steeling his resolve and following the song, Sean descended the steps into the darkness.

--

Travis had awoken Hugo and Rei, rousing them from their beds and informing them of what had happened. As a group they had left the inn and began up the street towards the tor.

As they had reached the well, they could hear the grating of stone on stone.

With renewed pace they ran off down the trail towards the church.

--

The song led him, down the steeps, into the dark. As the steps levelled out and the ground became flat, sparks ignited, causing torches to flare, casting the room into a harsh flickering glare.

Looking down Sean realized that he had activated a pressure plate mechanism.

Looking up again, Sean's mind was filled with the song, and his vision filled with a stone box, two foot by two foot.

Walking up to the box, Sean could make out the symbol that emblazoned the front of the box, an egg with a tail and a fin on each side. He recognized it, somehow and from somewhere.

Raising his elbow like a jack drill, Sean pounded his elbow onto the top of the box. A dull shudder vibrated through the room, yet the box remained solid.

Examining the sides, Sean found two handprints on either side. Placing his armoured digits into the grooves provided the stone box began to open, the song reaching a new height, a crescendo.

As the box opened, Sean was greeted with the sight of a Guyver Unit, decaying rags crumbling about it.

--

Sho was startled as the song stopped, London streaming out below him like a fallen galaxy, the speck in front of him outpacing him.

Swearing, he sent a mental scream to Sean:

"Sean get out! She's coming!"

He hoped he could make it in time.

--

Sean picked the Unit out of its box. It was dusty and ragged looking, moth-eaten cloth hanging from within the greyish tentacles that encircled the metal. Blowing the dust from its surface, Sean turned and began to retrace his steps.

The moon still shone brightly through the stained glass windows, a ghostly light compared to the frenetic dancing of the torches. As he headed towards the doors, he could see his friends coming down the path towards him. Smiling under the armour, he hastened to meet them.

He stopped.

"Sean get out! She's coming!"

It was Sho's voice, panicked, nervous. He could feel a force coming towards then, similar to when he and Sho were together and armoured.

Tempted to swear, but remembering he was in a church, Sean broke into a sprint, heading straight towards his companions, Rei in the lead.

He threw her the Unit, screaming "Run! Get Out!"

As the words left his lips he was hit broadside by what appeared to be a purple comet.

--

Sean's armoured form crashed into the hillside, semi-dazed. Looking up he saw a shadow hanging over him, a Guyver, yet hourglass-like in shape, the moon creating a halo effect around the head and its fins.

"Hi," coughed Sean as a kick landed hard in his midsection.

The figure backed off and Sean stood, his left arm cradling his stomach. The figure assumed a combat stance and it blades hummed a death chant as they sprang from her forearms.

Sean straightened himself and extended his own blades, assuming the stance he had used so well in the past.

"What? No kiss?" he asked dryly.

The female just screamed and charged.

Sean was not a trained combatant, yet he could hold his own when needed. Here he knew he was facing his toughest opponent ever. Sparring with Sho had been tough, yet Sho hadn't wanted Sean dead, or even injured. This bitch wanted him dead. And judging by the armour, it was definitely feminine.

Sean lunged forward with his forward swept right blade, the female moving her head to the side just in time, and bringing an uppercut diagonally across Sean's chest, vibration sword singing. The pain assaulted Sean like a train, his chest and ribs afire with agony.

Kicking her with a roundhouse in the head, Sean broke out of their scuffle and tried to regain his breath. "Psycho much?" He asked, as he feinted with his forward sword and turned around in mid strike, elbow first, plunging his backward sweeping blade into her upper thigh.

She stumbled backwards, hobbling on her leg, and straightened out. Sean stared in astonishment, as the deep wound seemed to bubble and fizz, the flesh knitting itself together.

"Holy..." said Sean as her fist connected with his jaw, sending him backwards, dazed.

--

Sho could make out the glimmering lights of a town ahead and his ears pricked to hear the sound of blade on blade from the north. Changing his trajectory, he sped in that direction.

--

Agito had slowed down considerably. Using his mind and the Unit, he was monitoring the progress of said battle. He could sense fear and rage. He could also sense...

Fukamachi. Approaching fast. Damn him.

--

Travis, Hugo and Rei watched in silence; stunned, paralyzed like deer in headlights as they watched the female strike Sean on the chin, sending him backwards.

Rei cradled the tattered and ragged bundle Sean had handed her like a doll, almost as something to give her comfort.

--

Sean landed heavily on his back, quickly rolling over and getting a kick in the ribs for his trouble. Taking it, he rose slowly, steam venting from his mask, as he readied his stance again. Chuckling quietly, the female mirrored his stance, mocking him.

Sean dropped his left hand to his belt and spun on his heel, doing an full three sixty degree turn and ending on his knee, his arms extended in front of him, hands open, the words "Pressure Cannon!" shattering the silence.

A small blue black nimbus of energy, the size of a tennis ball, crackling with dark lightening shot at the female, colliding with her shoulder. The impact threw the female back some distance.

Sean rose to his feet, his chest finally beginning to heal, albeit slowly, and blades ready, walked towards the female.

The female stood, her right arm limp and useless, hanging at her side, the majority of muscle and flesh on the shoulder missing, a gaping hole all that remained. The armour plating on her right breast seemed to be sagging.

"What's your malfunction, huh!" Sean screamed at her.

"You, Guyver." she said, her voice husky and rich, yet ragged and short of breath.

They stood there, staring each other down. Suddenly and without warning, the damaged side of the female chest exploded, armour shredded as she screamed "Mega-Smasher!"

Sean was engulfed in a beam of super-accelerated particles and when the ozone cleared he lay, shattered and broken in a trough, gouged into the earth by the blast.

The female stood above him, her right arm and chest missing, yet bubbling with the regeneration that Sean had seen earlier. She stood quietly looking down at Sean, eyes cold and merciless behind her mask, steam escaping from the vents.

She reached down and grabbed Sean by the forehead. By the control metal. He couldn't resist, as his body seemed to be another part of him, totally separate from his perception.

She wrapped her fingers around the edges of the metal. Sean's conscious mind screamed at him, willing him to fight. His body wouldn't listen to his orders, his pleas, his begging.

She pulled.

--

He could feel her cold armoured hands grip his metal, and wrench, an agonizing tug that left his body, very fibre of his being, screaming for release. He looked at her face, her eyes seeming to glow with an insane light.

This horrifying image of madness engulfed his field of vision as his body was devoured by the parasitic Guyver unit, swallowing his soul in a soundless scream.

He heard Rei screaming his name.

--

The End.

--

Pronunciation (Phonetic)

--

Ruapehu Rooo-Ah-Pay-Who

Whakapapa Phar-Kar-Par-Pa

Kapiti Kar-Par-Tea

Rotorua Row-Tow-Rue-Ah

Ngaruahoe N-G-Nar-Roo-Ho-E

Tarawera Ta-Rah-Where-Rah

Tongariro Tong-Ar-Ree-Row

Takapuna Tack-A-Poo-Nah

Manukau Man-EWW-Co

Waitemata White-EE-Matter

--

Disclaimers

--

Guyver was created and is under copyright by Yoshiki Takaya and Biomorphs Inc. 'The Prophet's Song' by Queen was written by Brain May and is owned by Queen and is from the album, 'A Night at the Opera'. Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom are copyright George Lucas and Steven Spielberg. Doctor Hone Ropata, is a character owned by Grundy Television and South Pacific Pictures in conjunction New Zealand On Air. The character is from the New Zealand drama "Shortland Street" and was/is played by Temeura Morrison. 'Kill This Distraction, Kill Your Reaction' by Subcircus, from the album 'Songs of the Witchblade'. 'With Arms Wide Open' is by Creed and from the album 'Human Clay'. The Incredible Hulk was created by Stan Lee and is copyright Marvel and Toy Biz. 'Heropsychodreamer' by Live, off their album 'Secret Samadhi'. 'One' by Creed, off the album 'My Own Prison'. Queen owns all copyrights and so forth for the song 'Friends Will Be Friends' (written by Freddie Mercury and John Deacon) and its parent album 'A Kind Of Magic'. 'On A Day Like Today' by Bryan Adams from the album of the same title. Copyright 1998 by BAdams Music Limited and some other guys. 'Welcome to the Jungle' from the album 'Appetite for Destruction' is by Guns N Roses and is copyrighted by them and the record company, Geffen. Superman was created by Jerry Seigel and Joe Shuster and is copyright DC Comics. Sailor Moon and all related characters are copyright Naoko Takeuchi (the creator), Kodansha, Bandai and DIC. 'Pressure Man' from the album 'Supersystem' by The Feelers is copyright by them and WEA Music. Evil Dead is copyright Sam Raimi and various others. If any of this information is wrong, my most humble apologies. No copyright infringement is intended, this is merely a work of fan fiction. I am in no way affiliated to any of these companies and people and what not. Thanks for reading.

--

Written between the 10th June 2000 and 22nd July 2000.

Part One - Arrival, Finished 10th June 2000

Part Two - Birth, Finished 23rd June 2000

Part Three - Changes, Finished 25th June 2000

Part Four - Home Is Where The Hurt Is, Finished 26th June 2000

Part Five - Mitigating Circumstances, Finished 29th June 2000

Part Six - Introductions, Finished 1st July 2000.

Part Seven - Conversations And Resolutions, Finished 2nd July 2000.

Part Eight - Homecoming, Finished 3rd July 2000.

Part Nine - The Big OE, Finished 9th July 2000.

Part Ten - A New Player, Finished 21st July 2000.

Part Eleven - Myths And Legends, Finished 22nd July 2000.

Compiled 3rd October 2000.

Re-edited 14th March 2003.

Finished 3rd July 2008

By Nicholas Clark (Warriorsong)

--

Authors Notes

--

3rd July 2008. Finally done. Thought there would be something to amend but I'm happy with it and ready to put it behind me. Best to concentrate on new stuff. I can finally say that Evolution is finished.

14th March 2003. Originally I had intended this fiction to take place after about Book Fifteen, Chapter Eighty-Seven of the manga, or more accurately, as far as I had read in synopsis. Having seen the original anime version and read several of the manga (Parts Five, 1 and 7, and Part 6 Number 1) I had very little concept of the later parts of the story. Admittedly however, this can take place just about anywhere after, being an alternate universe as it is. That said, several things should be noted. Chronos is at present still a shadow corporation; philanthropic on the outside, while its real motives and such have yet to be seen by the real world. As many have noted, Sean Barker is the American character version of Sho Fukamachi taken from the Western Guyver movies. I decided to make him my own character with the Guyver universe, almost, in my eyes, providing a broken flow between from live action to the anime and manga. This story is nearly three years old now and I can honestly say, my first real fiction. As such I could change it, being this revised edition, markedly to fit my more present writing style, but then I would compromise something I look on fondly. I never intended to end it here, in fact, when writing it, I was already conceiving two sequels of sorts, one set six months after, and another some thousand years before. Guyver Dark Age took form very quickly, but Guyver Revivified still exists mainly in the grey matter upstairs.

Guyver was created and is under copyright by Yoshiki Takaya and Biomorphs Inc. If any of this information is wrong, my most humble apologies. No copyright infringement is intended, this is merely a work of fan fiction. I am in no way affiliated to any of these companies and people and what not. Thanks for reading.


End file.
